


If You Forget the Way to Go

by Aystyr (devinsxdesigns)



Series: If You Want to Go Far, Go Together [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Daniel Jackson needs hugs, Daniel and Jack are the actual best of friends, Daniel makes a habit of almost dying, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Jack/Daniel best friends, M/M, Minor Canonical Character Deaths, Occasional angst, Spanking, Stargate, but first we get all the show's angst, eventual slash, lots of cuddles will happen, minor General Hammond, minor Janet Fraiser, minor Samantha Carter, minor Teal'c, nobody's perfect, season five depression, soft and cuddly slash, sometimes Jack almost dies too, spanking as guilt relief/stress relief, spoilers for show in case you couldn't guess, tags to episodes, the boys have lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 130,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24229090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devinsxdesigns/pseuds/Aystyr
Summary: A relatively shameless excuse to explore Jack and Daniel's friendship and relationship, expounding on things that happen in the show and exploring the feelings or missing scenes.   This is a Jack/Daniel fic. It starts out a little slow-burn but man it didn't stay that way. My feelings on the matter were apparently Too Big. There's nothing particularly explicit about it except the affection between our boys, because that's just not my style.Please read the author's notes in the first chapter before embarking on this journey with me.Reading the first story in the series is recommended, but not required.Current Chapter: In which they lose someone, but at least it's not Jack.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson & Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill, Jack/Daniel Friendship
Series: If You Want to Go Far, Go Together [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748833
Comments: 71
Kudos: 89





	1. Prisoners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated 11/8/2020
> 
> This started as something small, and it has exploded well past that. So, I wanted to update this before-reading author's note. This is a Jack/Daniel slash fic, but one of the cuddly and sweet variety rather than the explicit variety. You're going to get a lot of feelings, and a lot of cuddles, and some angst, and always working towards a happy ending with the boys together. Most if not all of the chapters in this story will be directly tagged to episodes/story arcs, and we won't much deviate from canon as add to it - missing moments, behind the scenes, feelings added in, etc. Dialogue drawn directly from the episodes **does not** belong to me.
> 
> I recommend that you read the first story in this series, "When in Rome" for some context, however, you don't need to read it to understand this one. That story is very much a "spanking story". This story, however, is very much a ship fic with a small side of spanking; consensual, non-sexual spanking between two adults as a form of stress/guilt relief. If it's not your thing, you can either sort of gloss over those bits or choose not to read, but don't act surprised when it happens. However, unlike "When in Rome", this story isn't all about that, but it's threaded through. If you like your Jack/Daniel with a lot of feelings and a little humor, I recommend you just try it. 
> 
> There is also a third story in this series, which holds chapters that for whatever reason don't fit into the timeline created here. That installment is always "finished"/a series of one-shots.
> 
> This chapter tags to S2E3, "Prisoners".

Some days, if he didn’t know any better, Jack would think Daniel was _trying_ to get himself killed. Or kill Jack, scaring at least five years off of his life at every incident.

The mission paperwork is still blank in front of him, and all he can think about is the empty feeling in his gut when Vishnor had been choking their foolish archaeologist, and he had been helpless to prevent it. He is not sure his heart beat again until Sam was crouched next to Daniel, pronouncing him ‘Still alive. But just barely.’ Then there had been hours of waiting for Daniel to wake back up and hoping that there wasn’t anything worse wrong.

Sam’s voice had sounded fairly confident when she declared that he hadn’t been not breathing for long enough to cause brain damage, but Jack could hear the slight uncertainty in her voice.  
  
Jack absolutely despises feeling that useless; even more so because if Daniel had moved when Jack ordered him to, Vishnor wouldn’t have had cause to attack him. The whole ordeal was completely avoidable.

He growls his frustration out loud and snaps the pencil in his hand for good measure. It’s satisfying, but doesn’t particularly make him feel better. It hasn’t been that long since he’d been forced to leave Daniel behind on Apophis’ ship, absolutely believing that he was leaving his best friend to die, and he’s still emotionally raw in a way that makes this feel like a bigger deal than it would usually be.

Hell, at this point he’s used to Daniel’s absolute lack of self-preservation, and he should have been expecting the other man’s actions. No way would Daniel have let those men commit suicide without trying to stop them, but did he have to _stand in the line of fire himself_? It’s becoming a habit, honestly, and how many times is he expected to live through Daniel’s ‘death’ and still stay sane?

First, it had been their very first trip through the Stargate. Jack knows he’d been in a particularly dark place himself, and his tolerance for the geek that he’d been saddled with had been very low. He’d been rude and taciturn himself and turned a blind eye when his men resorted to straight-up bullying Daniel. He had been awful, and to this day he still feels guilty when he thinks about it. But despite all of his shortcomings as commanding officer of that trip, Daniel had thrown himself in the path of a staff blast and died to save one very unworthy Jack O’Neill.

Then, he’d disappeared into the clutches of the cavemen on P3X-797 and they’d feared the worst. They’d _all_ died on the Nox’s planet. Daniel had tried to stay on the planet where they’d found Earnest Littlefield, nearly dying in the process. They’d gone as far as to declare him dead, with a funeral and everything, when Nem had convinced them he had died (just because it turned out he hadn’t died didn’t lessen the grief beforehand). He’d touched the damn mirror on P3R-233 and only luck had gotten him back to their reality.

All of that, in little more than a year. How many near-misses can they weather before Daniel’s luck runs out?

A rap of knuckles on the wall draws his attention to his open office door. And…speak of the devil. The shaggy-haired linguist is standing in the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Even from this distance, Jack can see the ring of bruises already darkening against the fair skin of Daniel’s neck.

“Daniel,” he drawls, leaning over to pitch the broken pencil into the trash can beside the desk, and grabbing a pen from the metal cup to replace it. “Did you need something?” He looks back down at his paperwork, ignoring the younger man’s approach so he doesn’t have to look at the evidence of how close they’d come to losing him this time.

“Uh, no, I…” His voice is rough and very quiet from the doorway, and Jack is abruptly reminded that Janet had told him to try not to speak for a day or so until they were sure there wasn’t damage to his vocal cords, and to whisper when he was going to talk. Daniel wanders closer to the desk so he doesn’t have to speak louder than a whisper; “I was just coming to see if you wanted to go get food with us? I promised Teal’c we’d go try that new Indian place and Sam is going to tag along-“

“No.” Jack doesn’t look up from his paper, though he hasn’t written anything on it yet either.

There’s a pause, but it is far from comfortable. He can almost _hear_ Daniel thinking, he _can_ hear him shifting uneasily, and when he speaks again, his quiet voice has taken on a strange quality. “Ok, Jack. See you later.” He waits a minute, as if to see if Jack will change his mind, and then leaves as quietly as he entered. Jack abandons the pretense of filling out the mission report and leans back in his chair, tiredly rubbing his face.

He knows he was being an asshole, but he still thinks it’s better to give Daniel the cold shoulder while he gets over his frustration rather than releasing his temper. Daniel will get over it, and by the time they’re back to work in a day or two, Jack will be over it too.

* * *

Several hours later, he’s sitting next to his telescope but not looking through it. The cold beer dangling from his fingers is half gone, and he’s tilted back in the comfortable lawn chair contemplating the sky he can see with his naked eye. He’s trying not to allow himself to regret not going to dinner with the team.

There's the sound of a vehicle, and it’s stopped at the end of his driveway. A door closes, and someone walks to the front door and knocks. Jack tries to remember if he left lights on that will make it obvious he’s at home; when he hears a person climbing the ladder he guesses either he did, or it’s someone who knows to look up here for him anyway.

“Jack?” Daniel’s quiet inquiry precedes the appearance of his head over the top of the roof. He doesn’t wait for a reply to slide over the top of the ladder and cross the roof, making his way to the second lawn chair and settling tentatively onto the front edge of it. It would feel presumptuous if Jack hadn’t dragged that chair up here specifically for the man sitting in it when it had become clear to him a few weeks after they’d returned from Abydos that Daniel was as adrift in the world as he was. They had little more than the Stargate program and each other, at that point, and even then, he’d wanted Daniel to feel as comfortable here as possible. Since then Daniel has spent many nights curled up in that chair next to Jack, and Jack doesn’t think he’d ever be upset enough to send him away.

“How long are you going to be mad at me?”

At that, he finally looks over and clocks the look on Daniel’s face. Regretful, definitely upset at the way Jack is behaving but also…guilt? “I don’t know. That was a damn stupid thing to do.”

“I couldn’t just let them kill themselves.”

“Daniel, you think I don’t know that? I wouldn’t have expected you to do nothing.” Jack sets down his beer with a hard, decisive click and leans forward into his archaeologist’s space with a scowl. “You could have made your point without standing in front of an opening wormhole, for one. And definitely without making yourself a target for the biggest guy in the prison.”  
  
“I didn’t know he was going to react that way…” tries Daniel in his own defense, but Jack quickly cuts him off.  
  
“I _did_ ,” Jack snaps. “It’s my job to know, and I ordered you to move. And if you’d listened to me instead of assuming you’re always right, you wouldn’t have been in reach for him to grab.” He keeps his eyes focused on Daniel’s face, though he tilts his head just a little before he growls, “You basically _died._ If he’d been just a little rougher, a little more careless, he might have snapped your neck instead of choking you out. Do you have a death wish?”  
  
Daniel’s staring back into his face but he drops his eyes at something he sees, flushing and looking shameful now instead of stubborn. “I know, Jack. You’re right, and I’m sorry. It was stupid. I wish I could promise I’ll never do it again, but I don’t want to lie to you. But I can’t stand this, I could barely sit through dinner knowing you didn’t come because you were mad at me.”  
  
“Aren’t you supposed to be resting your voice?” Jack hears himself offer the rebuttal grimly and winces even as he looks back up at the sky. That sentence came straight from Jack the Asshole. He doesn’t want to be mad, either, not at Daniel, but he doesn’t know how else to make him start taking more care for his own skin. The sound of crickets and other night insects fills the emptiness around them, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Daniel working himself up to saying something else.

“I’ve, um, been thinking a lot about Ospar.”

Whatever Jack was expecting, it _wasn’t_ that. Daniel is staring at the roof under their chairs, and even in the dark he can see that his friend is flushed dark red, and his hands are fisted together between his legs. 

“I’ve been writing back and forth with Callo, and I think I’m starting to understand. I really hate it when things are like this between us. If you, um, disciplined me when things like this happened, it would clear the slate and let us move on.”

Daniel has his full, if incredulous, attention. Jack sits up slowly to the front of his chair and turns towards the linguist. “You want me to spank you.” His voice is flat, with more than a hint of skepticism.

“No, Jack, I don’t _want_ you to spank me,” Daniel mumbles, still staring at his own hands and feet. “But I’d rather you spank me than live with this feeling. I did do something stupid, and I feel guilty about it. On top of that, I really can’t stand when you’re mad at me – it’s like being physically ill, it’s all I can think about and even after you stop acting mad outright, I question whether you’re still mad and just hiding it better. I can’t focus.”

He risks a peek up at Jack through the curtain of his hair and must find some sort of encouragement in Jack’s face, because he continues. Jack has been shocked into silence and doesn’t know what to think, so he has no idea what _is_ actually on his face. “Callo says when he gets punished, he’s able to let go of the guilt and forgive himself, and believe that his partner forgives him too. I’m asking you to…to punish me and help me like that.”

Jack can honestly say he had never considered it, not once, since they had come home from that damn planet. In fact, he had been pretty convinced that Daniel wouldn’t forgive him for spanking him the first time, and he certainly had never in his wildest dreams imagined that they’d be sitting on his roof and his best friend would ask him to do it again.

But.

Jack had seen all of the emotions Daniel is describing on his friend’s face in that holding cell on Ospar. The guilt and shame, the uncertainty; and then had been much less of an issue in Jack’s mind than what happened today. He’s seen those feelings many times when Daniel has let his heart and passion override common sense and put himself or the team in danger on missions. And he has to admit that Daniel had recovered from his experience on Ospar quite quickly compared to how long it usually takes him to stop beating himself up over mistakes once the crisis is over. Yes, as crazy as it is, he can see a road where this benefits their relationship.

The question is, is he willing to jump off of this cliff with Daniel? This might be the cultural norm on Ospar, but it certainly isn’t here on Earth, and one wrong move could effectively end SG-1, and possibly both of their careers. Not to mention, if Daniel isn’t 100% serious and committed to this, it’s an itsy bitsy tiny step away from abuse. He leans forward towards Daniel again.

“I need you to be able to look me in the eye and tell me that you want me to spank you. For real, which you know will not be a pleasant experience because we’ve been down this road before. You need to be absolutely sure.”  
  
Daniel takes a few shaky breaths, and then a deep one and manages to lift his chin and look right into Jack’s intent gaze, though he gets the feeling this time Daniel is whispering because he can’t manage a louder volume, not because Janet had forbidden a louder volume. “I’m sure. Jack, I promise this is something I’ve thought a lot about. It’s not some sudden poorly thought out impulse.”

Jack holds his younger friend’s gaze for a minute more, tempted to force Daniel to use the word he’s so carefully avoiding, but decides that would just be mean. He can see the truth in Daniel’s eyes, and that’s enough. “Ok, kid. Ok.” Jack is still trying to wrap his head around the idea a little and needs a minute. “Go let yourself into the house and wait for me in the living room. I’ll be down in a second.”

* * *

For a few minutes after Daniel disappears back down the ladder, Jack stares up into the sky, trying to figure out what he’s getting himself into. A part of him does understand what Daniel is saying, and he thinks it will work. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have agreed. But another part of him is worried about this upsetting the fine balance they walk every day. Yes, there are times when he desperately needs and wants Daniel to be more careful, to listen to the orders issued to keep him safe, to be more military. But other times, he hates to admit it but maybe just as often, he needs Daniel to balance his own militaristic tendencies and yank him back to the middle.

Daniel wouldn’t have risked this if he didn’t think it was important, and that’s really the deciding factor. Wherever Jack is understanding this, Daniel is probably ten steps further ahead. If he trusts Jack with this, maybe it’s the right call.

He instinctively knows he shouldn’t leave Daniel waiting for too long. With quick, practiced movements, he packs away the telescope and gathers up his now warm half-empty beer, and climbs down the ladder. He locks the front door behind himself and detours through the kitchen to toss the glass bottle into the sink and then heads into the living room.

Daniel’s standing by the glass doors, arms wrapped around himself in that obvious tell that says he’s nervous, despite his conviction on the roof. He flicks a glance over his shoulder back at Jack, and slowly turns around, giving Jack the shyest half-smile. Jack wanders over and wraps an arm around his shoulders, guiding him over to the couch.

“I do get frustrated when you don’t think things through,” he keeps his voice steady, and tries for firm but not too harsh. “I admire how much you want to save everyone, but not at the cost of your own life. You almost died today, Daniel, and it wasn’t the first time or even an isolated incident. You have to figure out when it’s more important to follow orders than to put yourself and everyone else at risk doing what you think is right.”

A slight tremor runs through Daniel’s body, and Jack decides not to draw it out any longer than necessary. Shoring up his resolve with images of all the times Daniel has almost been lost to them recently because he thought his ideas were better than the rest of the teams’, he quickly unbuttons Daniel’s jeans and pulls them down to his knees. Before that can completely register with the linguist, he wraps one arm around Daniel’s wrist and pulls firmly on his arm, overbalancing him to tip him down over his lap but catching and steadying him before he can fall on his face.

Once he’s over Jack’s lap, Jack leaves one hand planted firmly in the center of his back and uses his free hand to lower Daniel’s underwear to meet his pants at his knees. He wants to be able to see what he’s doing and make sure he doesn’t cause any real harm, and besides, it had been part of the formula every time Jack had ever been on the receiving end of a spanking, and Daniel gave him the impression that had worked for him the first time. “Give me your glasses,” he remembers at the last minute, reaching out a hand. Daniel does, and Jack folds them and reaches over to set them safely on the coffee table.

It feels like it would be stupid to ask if Daniel is ready (could you ever be ‘ready’ for a spanking? Jack certainly doesn’t remember ever feeling ready when he was a kid), but he takes a firm grip around the younger man’s waist with his left arm and taps warningly on the nearest cheek before lifting his right hand for the first real swat.

Daniel jumps in his grip when his hand lands, and a bright pink spot blooms where his hand landed. He lands a matching spot on the other cheek and then readjusts his grip and sets about establishing a steady rhythm, the bottom under his hand quickly turning rosy under the onslaught. Daniel is quiet, though his body jerks every few spanks when Jack hits a particularly sensitive spot. As the pink starts to edge into a color more accurately described as red, Jack can feel the linguist start to squirm under his arm, and his toes dig into the carpet as his legs start to shift restlessly.

A part of him wants to stop there – but Daniel had made it clear he was after the emotional release, and they aren’t even close to that point yet; his partner is still completely silent over his knee, not even the hint of being emotionally affected.

With that in mind, he thinks back to what had worked before, and shifts his aim downwards, to catch the lower curves of Daniel’s bottom and upper thighs with sharp swats. Almost immediately the younger man starts to yelp quietly, and after a minute he takes his hand off of the ground in front of him and tries to throw it back to cover his butt. Jack catches it and moves it to the small of his back, tipping him slightly further over his knee for his troubles.

Daniel’s yelps have turned into quiet gasps and involuntary little whining protests, and the undercurve of his bottom has taken on the same dark pink color as the rest of his butt. Jack decides to see if he can tip Daniel over the edge with words, not particularly keen to take the spanking itself as far as he had on Ospar.

“I am not going to stand by and let you risk your life when it’s avoidable,” he starts scolding, moving his brisk spanks back up to the top of his friend’s rear, taking the light red to a deeper shade. “There are too many risks involved in what we do already. Your sense of self-preservation is lousy, and if this is what it takes to make you stop and think, so be it.” Daniel’s squirming in earnest now, his legs scissoring futilely as he struggles against the grip Jack has on his hand and his waist, and his breath is starting to sound a little wet, his yelps punctuated by hitched breaths.

“S-sorry!” The exclamation drifts up from somewhere below Jack’s knees. “I just w-wanted to save them, I d-didn’t think about how it w-would come across!” His normal eloquence has failed him, as he struggles to get his words out around the looming tears.

“I know you wanted to save them,” is the colonel’s frustrated rebuttal, still landing steady and solid spanks. His hand is starting to sting, so he can’t imagine Daniel isn’t about ready to give in also. “But that’s why you Listen. To. My. Orders.” When he gets to the last four words, Jack tightens his grip on Daniel and brings his hand down harder than before, back and forth right at the tender junction of bottom and thigh. “Because when you get too caught up in the people, it’s my job to Keep. You. Safe.” Four more hard swats to his sit-spots accompany that sentence and that does it.

“I will! Sorry, Jack, sorry,” Daniel manages to choke out the promise, and then it’s as if all the air has been suddenly let out of a party balloon; he collapses over Jack’s lap and gives in to the tears. Jack lands a couple more spanks to the same spots, and then the older man stops spanking. He switches to rubbing his geek’s back, muttering soothing words.

“Ok, Danny, I know. We’re done. It’s over.” He lets go of Daniel’s wrist and takes his hand, trying to massage some feeling back in; he’s sure it’s numb from the way it was drawn up awkwardly across his back. “Easy, kid, take some deep breaths.” While he’s murmuring and rubbing, he casts a critical glance over his handiwork. Daniel’s butt is a solid, hot red from the top crest to about a hand-span down the back of both thighs, but he’s relieved to see this time it’s not any darker than that. Not sign of bruising, this time, which is a relief. Last time he simply hadn’t been prepared in any way, and he hadn’t known how to bring Daniel to the tears they’d demanded without leaving some bruises. This he thinks might be a little pink and tender tomorrow morning, but he’d be surprised if Daniel can even feel it tomorrow night.

Daniel’s sobs have started to subside into a quieter crying, so Jack wraps his arm around the other man’s waist again and lifts him off of his lap. He’s aiming for putting Daniel on his feet, but the scientist has other ideas; he slides to his knees between Jack’s legs and wraps his arms around Jack’s waist, burying his face in the soft, well-worn folds of Jack’s favorite old air force t-shirt.

“I _am_ sorry,” comes his somewhat shaky voice, and then even quieter, “I was scared.”

“Mhmm, Danny, I was scared too,” he says somewhat dryly, threading his fingers through the man’s hair and gently scratching at his scalp. “But I forgive you. Hell, I forgave you the minute I knew you were still alive, but I still wish you wouldn’t pull that shit.” That draws a very watery and not particularly humorous-sounding laugh from Daniel and a nod of agreement against his stomach.

“The real question is, do you feel better? Because if this didn’t do what you wanted, we’re sure as hell never doing it again.” Keeping his grip gentle, he pushes his friend away by the shoulders and puts a hand on his chin to force Daniel to look up when he would have kept his eyes averted. “Daniel?”

The blue eyes that meet his are still swimming a little bit with reflexive tears, but as he searches his partner’s face he does think that Daniel seems calmer, and his body is less tense. He even manages to give Jack a glimpse of an infinitesimal smile. “Yeah, Jack, I feel better.” He reaches back, hands hovering near his butt but seemingly not quite daring to touch. “I mean, my butt doesn’t feel better but, um, the rest of me feels better.”

Jack lifts his eyebrows as the archeologist finally gets the gumption to rub his red bottom, wincing and hissing a little. “Your hand is hard,” Daniel says with a _definite_ pout, voice just this side of a plaintive whine. Jack shakes his head at him, amused despite himself.

“Danny, you _literally_ asked for it. Stop whining.” The pout is interrupted by a yawn, Daniel collapsing forward against Jack’s midsection again, and Jack snorts. “And you’re totally wiped. C’mon, up, it’s time for bed. Doc’s already going to kill us, that can’t have been what she meant by resting your voice. Let’s not add sleep deprivation to her list.” He stands and lifts Daniel to his feet with him, reaching down and pulling up his underwear, easing it as gently as he can over the shorter man’s sore butt. Somewhere along the line, Daniel had kicked off his jeans and Jack doesn’t bother to retrieve them, simply grabbing his glasses off of the table and guiding him to the guest bedroom with a hand on his shoulder.

'Guest' bedroom is kind of a joke. Daniel sleeps here as often as any guest – so many nights that they’re up late, playing chess or stargazing or watching hockey, and it never seems logical for Daniel to stumble back to his own apartment. They might as well call it Daniel’s room. Daniel drowsily pours himself into the bed on his stomach. He’s only wearing a t-shirt, boxers, and socks, having shed his jacket and shoes when he came into the house and his jeans kicked off somewhere near the couch. That’ll do for sleeping, then; Jack sets his folded glasses on the nightside table in easy reach. The archeologist barely stirs as he manhandles the sheet and comforter out from underneath his prone form and pulls them up over his partner.

In the doorway, he glances back once more before flicking off the light and shakes his head with a fond smile – Daniel’s already out for the count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I just watched an interview with Richard Dean Anderson and Michael Shanks from an expo in 2013 and the interviewer’s first question was something along the lines of ‘what was the relationship between your characters on the show’ and Richard Dean Anderson just basically says ‘gay’. That’s probably old news for most fans but hey, I'm new and it made my day. This story probably won’t ever have anything that couldn’t be read as good friends/platonic if you want, but full disclosure I am a Jack/Daniel shipper at heart.


	2. Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter tags to S2E5, "Need". I've tried to summarize the events of the episode in the story, as it has come to my attention that the show has been off the air for years, and not everyone recently finished binge watching the whole thing. #oops. So on that note, some of the dialogue in the italic sections is drawn directly from the show. For future chapters that don't let themselves to being written this way, I'm considering adding an episode summary at the beginning. We'll see how it plays out. 
> 
> Thanks so much for the lovely comments and support!
> 
> I'm also trying to figure out how to pace myself and find some sort of update schedule, and how not to end up writing until 4 or 5 in the morning once I get started because I can't stop, but in the meantime this chapter's already done, so I'm not going to keep anyone waiting. :) I did manage to leave it sit and proof it today, so maybe I'll have cut down on some of the silly small errors.

The infirmary is quiet at this time of night. Never silent, the humming and beeping of machines a constant background noise at all hours, but devoid of all but the most essential medical staff and the constant bustle of SG teams in and out for the routine as well as mission-related injuries. Jack changes position in the uncomfortable chair, and not for the first time considers asking Janet if he can replace it. She might as well put Daniel’s name on this bay, anyway, and Jack would like to be able to do his sitting for hours on end in an armchair or something. He’d even splurge on something leather, for cleanability.

Casting a tired eye over the steady rise and fall of Daniel’s chest, and the metronome beat of the heart monitor, he shoves his chair back a couple more feet and, taking care not to disturb the sleeping archaeologist, lifts his legs to balance them on the edge of the bed so he can slouch down in his chair, and take the time to mentally decompress from this disaster of a mission.

It had all started with Daniel following the woman into the woods.

_It happens faster than he can interfere. It usually does. One minute Daniel is behind him, and the next he’s darting ahead of them through the trees._

_“I wish he’d stop doing that,” Jack grumbles, and they jump up to follow. The woman isn’t Jaffa, but they can’t be sure she isn’t Goa’uld, either. They watch her move to the edge of the cliff, opening her arms wide and leaning out into empty space. “She’s gonna jump,” Jack observes, and no sooner have the words left his mouth than Daniel takes off running, and Jack is too far away to grab him - again._

As it turned out, the woman is some sort of princess. They had been quickly surrounded by Jaffa, and hopelessly outnumbered. He’d been irritated with Daniel, but at that point, he figured it would be an easy fix. The woman would admit that Daniel had been helping her - whether she wanted help or not – not attacking her, and Daniel would talk them out of trouble. The princess hadn’t seemed inclined to admit to anything, though, and they’d been thrown into the mines before they even had a chance to make their case. Somehow, as they’d been trying to mine enough naquadah to keep the overseers happy, Jack had missed the fact that Daniel was limping from an actual injury, and not just from exhaustion; he kicks himself now because if he hadn’t missed that, one of them would have grabbed Daniel when they made their escape attempt and he wouldn’t have been lagging behind to get caught in the cave-in.

His stomach tightens and he has to open his eyes to glance at the strong heartbeat on the monitor because he’d honestly thought Daniel had died…again. They’d been dragged off from their attempted escape and though Daniel had been alive when it happened, his failure to reappear alongside them had not seemed promising; Jack didn’t think they were going to offer medical care to the man who supposedly attacked the princess.

It had been a terrible relief when Daniel walked into the mine the next day.

_“Hi, guys.”_

_Honestly, Jack thought that he was hearing things until Sam’s shocked voice followed. “Daniel!”_

_“Whew, boy,” the relief hit Jack like a wave, his heart stopping for a moment and then starting to beat again, and he grabbed for sarcastic humor in defense of his feelings. “Surprisingly difficult to kill you, isn’t it?”_

They’d been in shock through most of his explanation; it didn’t help that he was clean and looked well but was not there to release them. Still, as unfortunate as it was, they weren’t terribly surprised, given the fact that they’d been thrown into the mine without any hesitation to begin with. One more night wouldn’t kill them, though even then he’d had a bad feeling about leaving Daniel alone with the woman. It wasn’t like Daniel had a great track record with women who showed him the attention he didn’t usually get with his nerdy exterior, or for that matter, princesses. For crying out loud, he’d asked Jack to fake his death and stayed behind on a primitive planet, thinking it would be forever, because he’d accidentally married an alien princess with a pretty smile.

They hadn’t seen Daniel for days after that. And the man who came down to the mine the next time hadn’t been their Daniel. Jack, Sam, and Teal’c were quickly starting to deteriorate. They weren’t getting nearly enough sleep, the water was brackish and nearly opaque with mine detritus and hard to force down, the gruel was just enough to keep them alive. But Daniel had barely noticed, going on and on about the wonders of the sarcophagus. He had sounded high. Sam, to her credit, had kept her cool and tried to gently steer Daniel into realizing something was wrong.

Jack hadn’t kept his cool. Reviewing the memory now, he could kick his past self; even if Daniel hadn’t been under the influence of the sarcophagus, Jack has always known that unleashing his temper and throwing his weight around in orders is not a successful strategy to get Daniel Jackson to do anything. All he could see then, though, was that his team was dying, and the one person in a position to do something about it…wasn’t.

Daniel had said a couple of things that Jack knows he should probably not forget, even if Daniel does. The sarcophagus might have affected his ability to think rationally, but he doesn’t think it had outright manufactured thoughts and feelings. The Goa’uld technology had preyed on his feelings of being unappreciated and out of place to make him do things he would never do in his right mind, but Jack doesn’t like knowing he felt like that even a little bit.

When he’d managed to convince their overseers he should be allowed to see Daniel, Sam had reminded him that they didn’t think Daniel was mentally well. He’d known that she was trying to remind him to keep his temper in check without actually saying any such thing to her commanding officer. He’d resolved to do it, too, and forcefully kept himself from yelling when he came face-to-face with his errant linguist. 

Daniel came bouncing down from a throne-like dais like a completely baked coed, babbling about getting married, and Jack had almost snapped until Daniel had followed it up by saying that they were going home in the morning, pulling Jack to his feet and hanging on his shoulder in an uncharacteristically touchy way. Usually, Daniel is pretty hands-off except in a few rare moments, and Jack couldn’t bring himself to shrug him off.

When they stepped through the Stargate the next morning, Jack had honestly thought that was the end of it. Janet was concerned about Daniel’s physical condition, enough to insist he stay on base and someone keep an eye on him, but they had all thought his system would right itself, given a few days of rest.

That was, they’d thought that until he went off on Sam in her lab when she tried to talk to him. He’d denounced the entire search for Sha’re, his _whole reason_ for joining the Stargate program again, and thrown an honest-to-god temper tantrum complete with smashing things. Then he’d collapsed in the General’s office in the middle of trying to resign, and everything about his health went to hell from there.

It was touch and go, and Jack spent a lot of time sparring with Teal’c and boring himself to sleep with various and sundry paperwork he hadn’t bothered to keep up to date with, all to keep his mind off of the hour-to-hour struggle for Daniel’s life. There was nothing Janet could do but treat the symptoms as they came, and they’d gone through a staggering array of potentially life-threatening issues before Daniel’s body finally stabilized. Janet had believed they were on the last stretch and started to wean him off of the sedatives. Jack had even thought about heading home for a few hours to grab a real shower and some shuteye in his own bed, but of course, that’s when the alarm got triggered and even before he made it to the quiet and isolated room where they’d been treating him, he already _knew_ it was Daniel.

_Daniel had a head start but he’d left a trail of stunned and bruised marines in his wake, and he was still half-sedated, and thankfully not moving very quickly. Jack ran him to ground in a storeroom. He tried to reason with the panicking scientist, but he could hear his voice rising, shouting in response to Daniel’s accusations. He couldn’t help it – he was afraid, and the fear was coming out as anger (as usual). If he couldn’t get Daniel stopped, some trigger-happy marine was going to shoot first and ask questions later._

_A sudden surge of motion and they’re grappling on the floor. Jack knows Daniel’s armed, because he’d shot out the overhead light right after disappearing into the rows of shelving. He’s stronger than usual, too, and completely desperate. Under any other circumstance, Jack would have had his friend disarmed and contained in seconds, but he’s at a severe disadvantage in that he doesn’t want to hurt Daniel, while Daniel is fighting him as if his life depends on it. His desperation covers a lot of tactical errors that would have had Jack or Teal’c dropping him mercilessly on his ass in the training room. They tumble into another shelving unit, sending things crashing to the ground all around them, and Daniel manages to free himself from Jack’s hold and roll away._

_Jack sits up quickly – and freezes as he stares down the barrel of the gun. Daniel is wild-eyed, shaking, barefoot. The gun is unsteady in his hands, but at this distance that won’t matter much._

_“What are you going to do, Daniel? You wanna kill me?” He asks, buying himself time to think. Daniel doesn’t reply but the gun twitches in his hand, like a part of him wants to lower it but the rest of him doesn’t. His eyes are terrified, like he doesn’t understand what’s happening. It’s heartbreaking. Jack has a strong, irrational urge to gate back to P3R-636 and torture Shyla until she understands what she’s done to the purest soul Jack’s ever met._

_“Oh, God, look at you.” It occurs to him that maybe he should try Daniel’s method for once, and try talking Daniel down instead of overpowering him. “I know what this is,” he continues, lowering his voice and slowing down the words. Daniel had seen him at his worst, an alcoholic not so much recovering as on pause, ready to sacrifice his own life on Abydos because he was so far gone. He can relate to what Daniel’s going through right now, if he can find the right words to convince Daniel. He doesn’t have Daniel’s silver tongue or mastery of languages, but he has the bond between them, no matter how strained it might currently be._

_“I know what it’s like. You can get through it.” He puts his faith in Daniel into those words, his absolute conviction that he can get through this, and he can see the moment something clicks on for the man across from him. Daniel’s face falls, he moans ‘no’ several times, and then he collapses in on himself, dissolving into helpless tears. As he melts his hands lower, taking the gun with them, and Jack shoots across the floor, disarming Daniel with one hand while he gathers him to his chest with the other, holding tightly as he weeps, nearly coming to tears himself._

Janet had tried to claim responsibility for the whole fiasco, claiming that she’d woken him and scared him, theorizing his mental state hadn’t recovered as quickly as his physical one, and in that state, it had been flight or fight until his altercation with Jack. Daniel hasn’t been sedated since then, but he hasn’t been interacting freely with them either. Usually, as soon as he starts to feel better, Daniel is trying to persuade, beg, or sneak back to work in some capacity, but he’s been lying quietly in the infirmary without even the slightest hint of an objection. He’s cooperating fully with Janet and will answer questions and keep up his side of a conversation, though admittedly in a reluctant and stilted way, but even Jack, who has more than once been accused of emotional illiteracy, can see that Daniel is far from ok, he just doesn’t know what to do about it.

* * *

Daniel spends a lot of time faking sleep. Usually, that wouldn’t work on Jack, but his colonel is so exhausted from restless nights spent in the chair beside Daniel’s hospital bed that he isn’t catching on. It works on Janet and Sam, too. It doesn’t fool Teal’c at all, but he’s not sure if the Jaffa will call his bluff or not, and he doesn’t want Teal’c to do something that will clue Jack in to the deception, so when Teal’c visits he mostly forces himself to stay present and engaged as much as possible.

Everyone is acting like as soon as Janet clears him medically, everything will be fine, but Daniel knows that’s not true. How could it be? He assumes they’re all just trying to keep him on an even keel until his recovery is finished, listening to Janet’s lectures about a stress-free environment, and the other shoe will drop later.

They haven’t asked, so he hasn’t said, but Daniel remembers everything. He really wishes he didn’t.

Now, as the influence of the sarcophagus starts to fade, he can see all the terrible choices he’d made for what they were. He remembers running off after the woman right after they’d arrived, basically doing exactly the sort of foolish thing he’d just promised Jack less than a month he wouldn’t do. He remembers doing nothing but eat, drink, flirt with Shyla, and sleep in the sarcophagus while his friends almost died; he remembers denouncing Sha’re to Sam in her lab. He remembers attacking Janet and the marine with her, as well as all the men between him and that storage closet.

Daniel remembers not caring, when he’d visited the mine and his friends were half-dead, filthy and starving, Sam shivering slightly against what had probably been a fever.

It makes him almost physically ill, choking back the need to hurl up his breakfast right then and there, but he remembers _aiming a gun at Jack_ in that dark storage room.

No, everything won’t be all right when he recovers. How could it be?

* * *

Somewhere along the line, he falls asleep for real, and when he wakes back up Jack is gone. Janet is there almost immediately, doing another check of all of his vitals while he sits quietly. Finally, she steps back, smiling gently at him.

“Everything looks really good today. I’m not ready for you to leave the base and go home, but you can certainly get out of this bed, go shower, and have a pretty normal day. You can do whatever office work you want, but promise me if you get tired you’ll stop and rest. We don’t know what the long term effects are here, and the last thing we want is a relapse.”

As she speaks, voice lightly cheerful, she’s going around turning off monitors and gathering things up to put away. “Okay,” he agrees, standing up, but hesitates before walking away. “Janet I’m so sorry…”

“For what?” she demands, turning around and putting her hands on her hips.

“Um, for attacking you…and being difficult…” he looks down, burning with shame at the way he remembers treating her during his convalescence.

“Daniel, you have nothing to apologize for. You weren’t yourself. We didn’t know the sarcophagus had that effect, and even if we did, nobody would have wanted you to die instead of using it.” She reaches out for just a second and brushes a hand down his arm. “Everyone’s just so glad you’re getting better. The fact that you’re apologizing is just another great sign that you’ve recovered, but it’s not needed.”

Daniel doesn’t believe her, but he smiles a little to make her think he does. When she walks away, he slides on the pair of BDU pants under his hospital gown that someone has thoughtfully left draped over the end of his infirmary bed, and sets off for a shower and changes into one of his own well-worn uniforms in relief.

He wanders up to Sam’s lab because he’s not sure what is most urgently needed for him to work on and she usually has the answers, but she’s not there. Another stop at Jack’s office reveals he is also missing. Daniel stops a passing airman to ask if he knows where they are, and the young man directs him to the observation center.

As he climbs the stairs, he can hear the rest of the team discussing options for their next off-world mission, and that hits him harder than he expected it to. He knows that Janet hasn’t cleared him for anything near the level of going on an off-world mission yet, but they would normally have included him in any briefing to do with SG-1, even if he wasn’t going to be accompanying them. The fact that they’re planning without him underlines his thoughts that his actions had been nearly unforgivable. His heart falls somewhere to the vicinity of his toes, but he forces himself to climb the last few stairs.

It’s hard to look in their eyes knowing what he’d done to them so recently, but he forces himself to hold General Hammond’s gaze for a painful moment, and then Jack’s for an even shorter time. He knows he can redeem himself if they go back, to get them the access to the naquadah Sam desperately wants, and to help Shyla’s people find an alternative to slavery, but he doesn’t blame them for not trusting him to be back within reach of Shyla and the sarcophagus.

He wouldn’t trust him with that either.

He makes his arguments as calmly as he can, trying to keep his desperation out of his voice, but General Hammond is looking distinctly unsupportive. Sam looks almost eager, and Teal’c is impossible to read, but he knows only one person would be able to convince the General to change his mind. Taking a deep breath, he forces his gaze back up to Jack’s face.  
  
“Please, Jack…” he’s begging, but there’s nothing to be done for that. “I need to take the chance.” If he can’t do this to prove to himself and his team, Daniel isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for everything and he might as well leave SG-1. Jack is still searching his face, silent, and then his eyes do a quick once-over as if checking his overall health.

When he turns away and tells Hammond they’ll back him up, using the words “I’d like Daniel back on the team”, Daniel feels a single ray of hope break through the cloud of uncertainty and despair. Maybe he can fix this, somehow.

* * *

Daniel turns away from the Gate, where he was seeing Janet and her SG-5 escort off back to help get Shyla through her Sarcophagus withdrawal. She’d cleared him to go home before she left, but he feels like he hasn’t seen his own office or work for months, so he heads in that direction instead. It’s easy to lose himself in the translations other teams have brought back for him, and he jerks back from his academic stupor only when a hand lands on top of the paper’s he’s reading.

It takes a couple of blinks to be able to see in the dim light his desk lamp doesn’t dispel with any efficiency, but he already knows who is going to be standing in front of his desk. “Jack?”

“Didn’t Doc clear you to go home?”

Daniel rubs his face, glancing at his watch. It’s past ten o’clock. He’d missed dinnertime entirely, and Jack should be long gone by now too. “I’ve got too much to catch up on, I’ll probably just crash here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. If I leave you here now, you’re not going to eat or sleep this weekend at all.” Jack reaches for Daniel’s jacket and offers it to him. “C’mon, we’ll pick something up and you can come play a game of chess, relax, crash at my place.”

Daniel darts a quick look up into Jack’s face but then shakes his head. “I’ve got some snacks here. I can put in another hour on this.”

“No can do, you’ll work yourself stupid tomorrow too. We need you back at 100% so Doc will clear you to go off-world next week.”

“Jack…” That’s exactly what he’s been trying to avoid. He still hasn’t been able to apologize to Sam or Teal’c, much less Jack. When he closes his eyes, he sees his friends in the mine. They’re better off, safer, to go on missions without him there to get everyone in trouble.

“Daniel.” Jack’s frowning at him now, brown eyes assessing. Shit, he must have seen something of what Daniel was thinking. The archeologist quickly averts his eyes, swiveling around as if he needs to consult the article on the computer screen, though he is so tired he can’t even make his eyes focus on the words in front of him.

It’s silent for long enough that he thinks maybe Jack slipped back out the way he came, so he jumps again when the colonel invades his space unapologetically, reaching over him to turn the computer screen off with a sharp jab.

“Jack!” Daniel’s voice rises in indignation, but Jack already has a hand under his arm, propelling him out of the chair and towards the door.

“I don’t know what’s up with you, but we’ll sort it out tomorrow after I feed you and you get at least 8 hours of sleep.”

“I’m not a child, Jack,” he says bitingly, “Or a houseplant,” but they’re already out the office door and halfway to the elevator. When Jack is this determined, there’s not much he can do short of putting up a physical fight. Another time he might have, but right now he closes his eyes and sees his own hands pointing a gun at his best friend and lets himself be towed along.

“Sweet,” Jack says agreeably, jabbing the elevator “up” button. The door opens almost immediately and closes on a soft whoosh behind them. Daniel tries a different tactic.

“I need-“

“Nothing out of your office, since you’re resting this weekend, like someone who just went through a pretty awful withdrawal.” Jack holds out Daniel’s jacket, both eyebrows raised in challenge, and Daniel gives in. He swipes the faded green garment out of Jack’s hand and shrugs into it. He’s still in his BDUs, but that argument won’t get him anywhere either since they both know he has several changes of clothes at Jack’s place.

True to his word, Jack drives through a fast food place and feeds him, though later Daniel wouldn’t be able to recall what they ate. He’s practically sleepwalking by the time they to the house, utterly overwhelmed as reality starts to crash down; he barely remembers making it to bed either, but he remembers fragments of Jack pulling his boots and jacket off, leaving a glass of water on the nightstand, and briefly resting his hand on Daniel’s head before he leaves.

* * *

He wakes up because the sun is creeping across the bed, and he’s too hot underneath the comforter where the sun is warming it. Rolling over, he fumbles for his glasses and checks the time. It’s late morning – he gave Jack more than the required eight hours of sleep. He’s glad for the glass of water now, and the two aspirin next to it.

The fact that his head is pounding and he more than needs the aspirin makes him a little sheepish. Jack knows him so well, sometimes he’s afraid of it. He’d spent an entire year married to Sha’re with very little to do _except_ get to know one another as they went about the much more basic daily life on Abydos, and he doesn’t think she knows him as well as Jack does. What kind of husband does that make him?

With a sigh, he gets out of the bed and goes to the dresser, opening the drawer where he’s stashed some clothes. He glances at his own exhausted face in the mirror as he sheds his sleep-rumpled BDUs and chooses a soft pair of sweatpants and an old air force t-shirt instead, knowing that there’s no way he’ll talk Jack into letting him go back to work today once he sees the dark circles under his eyes.

The kitchen and living room are empty, but there’s a pot of coffee waiting on the counter. Daniel smiles at it a little wistfully; he doesn’t deserve Jack taking such care for him, not after this week. If he’d just listened to Jack instead of running after Shyla in the woods, none of this would have happened. Jack should be furious. It wasn’t even Daniel who got into trouble this time, after all; the whole team had paid dearly for his impulsiveness.

But he hasn’t been on the receiving end of the cold shoulder Jack usually employs when he’s mad and doesn’t want to say something he’ll regret. No, Jack’s been nothing but patient and attentive. That just makes Daniel feel worse. Done doctoring his coffee, he wanders towards the back porch. Since it’s daytime, that’s a more likely place to find the colonel than the roof.

Sure enough, Jack is sprawled comfortably into one of the cheap loungers on the patio, squinting at the day’s crossword puzzle, his coffee mug half-empty on the little table beside him.

“Jack,” he greets him quietly as he takes the second chair, settling into a cross-legged position and lifting his face to the sun. Any time he spends an extended period of time underground at Stargate Command, the pleasure of the warm sun on his skin becomes more pronounced. It reminds him of Egypt, with his parents, and of Abydos. Even in the dead of winter, Colorado’s sun is warm enough at the height of the day to feel like home if his eyes are closed.

“How’s the head?” Jack asks without looking up from his puzzle, and Daniel looks over at him, startled.

“Fine,” he murmurs and gets pinned with a don’t-bullshit-me look from the man beside him. “I took the aspirin, and the coffee will help. It will be fine.”

Jack seems to accept that and goes back to his crossword. The silence stretches between them, but rather than feeling like a comfortable routine, Daniel is vaguely aware of sinking deeper and deeper into his guilt and misery. He doesn’t want to, but it’s like being in a canoe with no paddle on a river with a strong current – he just gets swept away by the shame and the doubts.

“Seven letters, ‘factor in criminal sentencing’, starts with R,”

Jack’s voice comes out of nowhere, and without really surfacing from his dark feelings, Daniel answers automatically. “Remorse.”

Silence, except for the sound of a paper getting folded and a faint clunk and rustle as paper and pencil are dropped on the table. “And are we going to talk about that?”

The matter-of-fact way Jack says it jerks him firmly into the here-and-now. He looks up and his eyes widen when he finds Jack looking directly at him, his expression unbearably tender.

“…Jack?”

“I’m tired of watching you beat yourself up. Daniel, the sarcophagus would have had the same effect on any of us. And you beat it – you got us out of there in the end.”

“I almost shot you!” It’s yanked out of him, sounding desolate.

“You didn’t. In this case, all’s well that ends well.”

“No, Jack!” he stands up abruptly, tumbling his empty coffee mug off of his lap and fumbling to catch it before it shatters on the patio stones. When he stands up and puts it on the table, his face is flushed darkly. “If I hadn’t gone running after Shyla, if I’d listened to you, none of it would’ve happened. You guys shouldn’t forgive me.” His hands find their way to his head, winding in his hair and tugging sharply. “You’ll all be safer if I don’t deploy with SG-1.”

“Yes, it was stupid to go after that woman, I wanted you to wait because we knew nothing about those people. But you meant well, and you had no idea that that dude was psycho. Of course we’re going to forgive you.” Jack isn’t getting to his feet, which just makes Daniel feel that much more out of control. “And when you aren’t eating yourself up over things, you know full well that’s not true. There are just as many missions we wouldn’t have made it back from if not for you – starting from the very first trip through the Gate. Your place is on SG-1.”  
  
Daniel shakes his head, closes his eyes, hanging on to the terrible feeling of guilt in his stomach because he doesn’t know what he’d feel if he didn’t.

“Last chance to stop beating yourself up the easy way,” he says it so easily, but Daniel doesn’t connect the dots.

Last chance before…what?

“It was my fault,” he says stubbornly. “I should have worked harder to convince them to let you guys go. You would never have –“

Standing swiftly, Jack has taken his arm in a firm grip and he’s steering him back inside, pausing to slide the patio door shut before manhandling Daniel to the couch.

_Oh._

Jack had been so reluctant both times, Daniel hadn’t even considered this as a possibility since he couldn’t bring himself to ask for it.

“I’m going to spank you for rushing out after Shyla, and ignoring me when I said to stop. That’s the only thing that happened that you have any business feeling guilty about. And then you’re going to let it all go.” He pauses a second to meet Daniel’s eyes, pausing, giving Daniel a chance to say ‘no’, and when Daniel is silent he proceeds.

Daniel realizes with a rush that’s half warm affection and half sudden and total consternation that his friend had been listening to _everything_ Daniel said, and some of the things he didn’t. He doesn’t have much time to think about it further, though, because Jack’s taken advantage of his unresisting shock and tugged the sweatpants and underwear to his knees and tipped him down over his lap on the couch, starting in immediately with brisk swats that make Daniel jump a little under his hand.

Jack is spanking faster than the last time, and Daniel is aware of how quickly the sting starts to build, like a million little bee stings. The sting builds and builds until his whole bottom feels like he’s just sat down on a hot metal chair on an Egyptian summer day but someone is holding him down so he can’t jump up again. He’s squirming involuntarily and gasping with every swat; he wraps his left arm around Jack’s waist and tangles his fingers in his colonel’s shirt, and grabs at Jack’s pant leg with his right hand to try and keep from reaching back.

Jack pulls him tighter into his stomach and shifts him forward a little, and Daniel whines out loud, knowing what that means. Sure enough, a moment later Jack starts applying hard swats methodically in sets of six – the lowest curves of each cheek, and then the crease where his bottom meets his thigh on each side, and then the top of each thigh. Daniel yelps with each swat and starts to kick, desperate for Jack to spank somewhere else, but his movement doesn’t affect the colonel’s aim or rhythm even a single time.

“This is the second time in less than a month we’re in this position because you didn’t follow one of my orders, and rushed in to do something reckless,” Jack starts scolding, and Daniel tries to stifle the first few sobs so he can hear the words.

“Ow! O-ow, Jack, please I w-won’t.” He gives in and swings his right hand around, stopping himself halfway towards getting it over his bottom. Jack takes the hand, threading his fingers through Daniel’s and using his arm to keep him pinned over Jack’s knees.

“You better start thinking before you go rushing in,” Jack has moved the swats back to the top of Daniel’s butt, spanking just as hard, and it hurts even more after the break. Every individual swat hurts the most until the next one falls, and it feels like Jack has taken a blowtorch to his butt. “If we have to talk about this same issue a third time, I’m going to assume my hand isn’t getting the message across.”

“Jack!” 

“Then don’t put us back in this position.”

Jack lands a particularly hard swat and that, combined with the idea of pushing Jack so far he thinks he needs to spank Daniel with something meaner than his hand, sends Daniel over the edge into heartfelt sobs, hanging limply over Jack’s knee. He’s mumbling out a litany of ‘sorries’ now, for this past week, year; even incidents that well predate their current arrangement. Jack ribs his back and talks to him; he can’t understand the words, per se, but Daniel recognizes the tender tone as he slowly starts to surface.

Jack lifts him up off of his lap and wraps his arms around him, letting him sink into the embrace. When Daniel starts to get his sobbing under control, Jack gentle pulls up his pants and underwear. Shifting back on the couch, he tugs him down to lay on his stomach, his head on Jack’s lap, and continues to rub his back in long, soothing strokes. Daniel lets the guilt flow out with the tears, and finds that Janet was right – he’s still sleep-deprived – as he drifts off to the familiar sounds of Jack getting intensely involved in a hockey game on the television.


	3. Snippet: A Matter of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference: In S2E15 (“The Fifth Race”), Jack accidentally downloads an entire Ancient knowledge repository into his brain. Subsequently, he loses the ability to speak, and then to read and write, anything except Ancient. He can’t communicate except kind of with Daniel, who can puzzle through based on Ancient’s similarities to Latin. He ends up building a power source and dialing the first known 8-chevron Stargate address and going through the gate, though nobody knows where he’s going or if he can come back, or if he'll live if he does. He ends up at the Asgard homeworld, and they fix him and send him home. Then, in S2E16 (“A Matter of Time”), Jack almost dies when they are trying to close a wormhole that is connected to a black hole while Daniel is offworld with a different SG team. 
> 
> This is a short chapter and mostly filler, but two episodes in a row where Jack almost died felt pretty significant to me in the boys' strange relationship. But the next episode in my rewatch list is S2E19 which has huge potential so a bigger chapter is probably quickly forthcoming. :3

Daniel is avoiding him.

He’d been in and out of the infirmary while Jack was recovering; at first, he’d been installed at Jack’s bedside, with a book in his hand when Jack was out of it, and various more Jack-centric activities when he wasn’t (Jack had found his agreement to read aloud from the most recent issue of a fishing magazine most entertaining). But, Daniel had become increasingly distant the better it seemed that Jack was doing. His visits had tapered off and then stopped entirely before Janet released the colonel.

Following the reports of cornered, growled at marines he traipses from infirmary to the mess, the mess to the labs, labs to the training rooms, each time seemingly missing Daniel by ‘just a few minutes, Sir’. It’s getting quite late and he is standing at the elevator, following the most recent report that ‘Dr. Jackson was headed home, Sir,’, when he pauses and heads back to Daniel’s office on a whim. There's no way the archaeologist stayed ahead of Jack all afternoon on accident, and if he's coordinating this the last place he'll go is where he sends Jack to look for him.

The corridors are dim at this time of night, to help simulate some sort of regular circadian rhythm for base personnel, and the office doors are dark as he passes them since all of the reasonable people who are not on-duty have either left the base or retired to personal quarters for the night. But there’s a sliver of extra light shining into the corridor from Daniel’s office, and Jack gives himself a mental pat on the back for knowing Daniel so well as he props himself up in the doorframe, arms crossed across his chest, and watches the archeologist hunched over a book, mouth moving silently as he reads.

He’s figured out that Daniel didn’t want to talk to him tonight, he just can’t figure out why.

He goes for the element of surprise and just walks in, closing the door behind him. The halls might be mostly deserted, but if they’re going to argue, there’s no reason for the rest of the base to hear it. Daniel’s head jerks up and he blinks a couple of times before he can focus on Jack, who stalks over to drop into a chair on the opposite side of his desk.

“Jack!”  
  
“Daniel.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Did you bribe those marines to lie to me all afternoon?”

“Uh – no.” But to Jack’s experienced eye, Daniel looks a little sheepish, so he leans forward a little and lifts both eyebrows to elicit further information. “I didn’t ask any of them to lie to a commanding officer. It’s not my fault they take everything I say to them at face value.” He pushes his glasses up his nose and marks his place in his voluminous text slowly.

“So?”  
  
“So, what, Jack?”  
  
“ _So_ , why are you going out of your way to avoid me?”

“Jack…”

“Daniel?” He responds, gesturing invitingly with his hands, but his friend turns away. Daniel shuffles some papers, shelves a couple of books, taps his fingers on his desk, and Jack prepares to wait him out, slouching in the chair and stretching his legs out in front of him. The linguist shoots him a look of intense annoyance and then tries to go back to work.

It lasts, but Jack’s rough estimate, about fifteen minutes before Daniel flings his pencil down on the desk and leans forward to growl, “I’m mad at you, okay? Leave me alone and I’ll get over it.”

Jack considers this, then shakes his head. “No can do, Dannyboy. I thought we weren’t doing the long argument and cold shoulder thing anymore.”

“It isn't…you didn’t do anything _wrong…_ you couldn’t have done anything differently, so it’s not the same.” Daniel pushes his hair away from his face, and scoffs, “and, besides, it’s not like _I_ am going to spank _you_ and make everything better.”

They both imagine this, Jack watching the distaste at the very idea flicker across Daniel’s expressive face, but Jack knows that it wasn’t a serious suggestion. He could never submit himself to Daniel like that, and unlike an Osparian, he can’t just report to one of his superiors for similar treatment. “No,” he says at last, “but you can talk to me about it, instead of keeping it bottled up inside. We do that now, right?”

Jack offers a disarming smile in the face of Daniel’s glare and is rewarded with a heavy sigh from the other man, resignation seeming to overtake his anger. “It’s just…you almost died! Twice! I wasn’t sure whether you were coming back from the eighth chevron address, or even if Janet could save you if you did, and then a week later while I was out with SG-6 you volunteered for what was basically a suicide mission! And – no, Jack, don’t interrupt me. I _know_ that it’s part of the job, it could have easily been me who looked into the Ancient device after Teal’c and you wouldn’t have stopped me; and I know you were the best option to get the time dilation fixed. I know, okay? It’s just that…”  
  
It’s tempting, for a just a moment, for Jack to point out how many times Daniel has almost died, but he successfully refrains. An eye for an eye was never the answer between friends, and he doesn’t truly want Daniel to feel that fear or loss. “Just what, Danny?”  
  
“It’s just that I am not used to being on this side of things.” The linguist gives Jack a faint, lopsided smile. “I know our jobs are risky, and you were just doing yours. Who better to know than me? But I thought we might lose you – twice – and that was hard. I guess it was easier to be mad than scared. I’m pretty sure you understand.”  
  
“Yeah, I do.” Jack thinks he does understand now what’s going on. With Sha’re still missing, Daniel has few people he cares about on Earth except SG-1, and nobody as close as Jack has become. He leans forward, meeting his friend’s blue gaze squarely. “I expect you to take care with your life, and I will do the same. I promise won’t die on you unless there’s really, seriously no other option.”

“No man gets left behind,” Daniel mumbles Jack’s mantra, and Jack nods firmly.

“Damn right.” He sits back, studying Daniel, and is pleased to see that he is calmer, his body language more open, and no longer actively avoiding even looking at Jack. It’s gratifying, to be able to talk his friend off the ledge instead of the two of them devolving into an emotion-fueled argument. Not that he’s under any illusion that they won’t have plenty of disagreements in the future, or that all of them will be handled this well, but a victory is a victory. “So. If you’re done brooding, then, how about you get us out of here? I’m craving a beer and a game, and some non-cafeteria food, and Doc still doesn’t want me driving. You’re my ride.”

“Sure, Jack,” Daniel rolls his eyes and grumbles, but he also turns to shut down his computer and gathers his things, so the colonel knows he’s won this round. He pauses in the doorway as Daniel comes into reach and rests a hand on the back of Daniel's neck in a silent apology he won't put into words for scaring his best friend, and stands still as Daniel leans into the touch for a long moment. When he pulls away, Jack swipes the same hand across his head to ruffle his long hair, and then swings his arm over Daniel’s shoulder on the way to the elevator and teasingly asks if he happened to record the hockey games he missed while he was unconscious in the infirmary, just to hear Daniel stumble through am indignant denial.


	4. One False Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter tags to S2E19 "One False Step" and draws some scenes and dialogue directly from the episode. Another relatively light/fluffy chapter, with a lot of feelings and only an itty bitty spanking. BUT there's an illustration so maybe that'll make up for it if you're reading for that specifically. ;) Lots of feelings to go around also. And it's the first time I'm inserting something new /into/ the episode, rather than covering thoughts only and inserting new content into the aftermath; a brief note on why I did it that way in the end author notes if you're curious.

At first, PJ2-445 seemed like exactly the kind of reason why Daniel was an important part of SG-1. Jack knew he certainly wouldn’t have had the patience to try and get information from the completely noncommunicative natives. It felt like an easy success when the naked, pale people brought the UAV out from behind one of their dwellings.

But then it got weird when they started to collapse, and as per their usual things went downhill from there. The whole situation was quickly giving Jack a headache, which steadily worsened as he and Teal’c trekked across miles of land to check on the other villages, and it was quickly reaching migraine proportions by the time they return to the original community to check on Daniel. It wasn’t an excuse for being short with his friend, exactly, but it was certainly a contributing factor.

“What’s he smilin’ at?” he asks, looking at Daniel, as the alien steps between them wearing a forced pantomime of a smile, which they’d learned from Daniel early in their attempts to communicate.

“He appears to be bothered by the tone you have taken towards each other,” Teal’c offers, adding sternly, “as am I.”

He isn’t sure why, but that rubs him all the wrong ways. Looking from Teal’c to Daniel, and briefly at the still-smiling alien, he orders, “Uh, Teal'c…go head back to the Gate. Get a message to General Hammond. Let him know what's going on here.”  
  
“And the two of you will be fine?” Teal’c questions, rather than immediately following the order, which should have been the next clue that something was wrong, but Jack is, apparently, feeling extra dense. He blames the migraine.

“Yeah. Yeah. We'll be OK. I'm going to stick around and work on this quarantine thing with Plant Boy here.” Even as the words leave his mouth, he freezes at the hurt look on Daniel’s face and shakes his head, not sure why he’d said that. But Teal’c goes, and Daniel seems to shrug it off.

Jack heads back to the dwellings, feeling increasingly irritable as enforcing any sort of quarantine as recommended by Janet seems completely impossible. The minute he shoos any seemingly healthy aliens away from one sick area, they simply run away from him silently or with quiet keening into another mud hut and attempt to mind the sick there. Walking out of the dwelling, he stalks across the clearing towards Daniel.  
  
“Why aren’t you helping me?” he demands, eyeing the video camera still in Daniel’s hands as he continues to inspect the strange round plants that are everywhere.

“Oh, it’s no use. They don’t understand.” Daniel says it almost absently, “They wanna be with each other.”

“Well, we’re not going to stand around doing nothing.”

“We’re not doing nothing,” Daniel protests, looking at Jack like he does when Jack is being completely unreasonable. Normally, that look makes Jack at least re-evaluate his actions. Right now, it just pisses him off.

“You’re videotaping a plant,” he responds acidly, even as Daniel leans down to set up the tripod pointing towards the alien plant he claims had…magically sprouted, earlier.

“Well, I think this might be important,” the archaeologist says it softly, in a voice obviously intended to diffuse the tension. It’s his humor-me-Jack voice, and Jack isn’t planning to fall for it today. Today, he needs Daniel to get his act together and help enforce the quarantine so that maybe Jack can sit down for a minute and nurse this headache with five aspirin and a protein bar.

“Well, I think you might be losing what’s left of your mind,” he snaps, and Daniel rises quickly with a kicked-puppy look on his face.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that on a good day, you can be a little flaky,”

“And on a good day you can be a little ignorant and condescending,” Daniel isn’t raising his voice, not rising to the bait of the argument, but every word feels like an ice pick in Jack’s skull anyway.

“Not condescending,” he scoffs, “You're obviously misreading a basic philosophical difference of opinion on how to handle a crisis.”

That, finally, seems to get to Daniel. “Oh, please! We have a difference of opinion on just about everything.” Jack feels like that’s a low blow, while Daniel is glaring at him in obvious confusion.

“Give me an example.” He knows they don’t have a difference in opinion about _everything_. They’re friends, after all. They do have some differences, but Daniel is exaggerating greatly.

“I don't know. Pick something.” Daniel swings an arm wide, leaning towards Jack. “How about - how about mythology?”

“Rumors? Lies? Fairytales?” Though this is the base of one of their biggest ongoing arguments, Jack thinks this is a fairly accurate and fair statement. Yes, of course, some of those myths have turned out to have a basis in fact (see: their ongoing fight with the Goa’uld, the actual characters behind the Egyptian pantheon of gods), the myths are not the actual truth any more than your average joe’s ‘big fish’ tale.

“You see?” Daniel raises his voice at last, waving his arms in Jack’s space. “See? See? See? See? See?” He’s hopping up and down, throwing an honest-to-god temper tantrum, and Jack can’t take it. 

Several of the aliens are starting to toddle over, eyes wide, at the disturbance they are causing in the middle of the village. Deciding he’s tired of being yelled at, Jack reaches out and snags the linguist’s closest elbow as he starts to hop his way through another furious circle, and brings his other hand down a dozen times on Daniel’s butt hard enough that he knows the other man will feel it, even through his BDUs. “Stop throwing a tantrum and making a scene!” he growls into his teammate’s ear, letting go, and Daniel does stop jumping up and down, looking immensely upset, but that quickly morphs to anger again and it doesn’t stop him from growling back,

“Mythology is one of the primary motivations for cultural development!”

“Maybe it is, what's that got to do with filming a plant?!” Jack steps forward into Daniel’s space again, reaching for him, but this time Daniel is quick to step back before he yells in response.

“Exactly!”

“What does that mean?!”

“I don't know!”

Their original alien friend has managed to get between them, forcing both men to pause, and Jack takes a deep breath. “OK…” he drawls slowly, “what was that?” He absolutely can’t believe the way Daniel was yelling at him, even Daniel isn’t usually _that_ insubordinate, but he also can’t believe that he’d just spanked Daniel off-world, on a mission, and in the heat of the moment.

“I don't know. I don't feel so good.” It doesn’t escape Jack’s notice that Daniel immediately stopped yelling when he did, and the guilt for issuing even those few swats increases tenfold now that he’s feeling calmer. His head is still killing him, but they’re clearly neither one in a great place.

“I've got a headache.” He admits, touching the back of his neck because that’s where the worst of the pain has settled. He wants to say more, eyes searching Daniel’s face, but the younger man is not quite meeting his eyes.

“Maybe we're getting whatever they have.” Even as the words leave Daniel’s mouth, the alien collapses beside them. Without speaking, they work together to lift him and carry him into the dwelling that they’ve been using as a central staging point, lowering him to the ground near the medical equipment that Janet had left behind, in case it might come in handy. That’s about all either of them has in them, energy-wise, and he can hear Daniel thumping to the ground even as does the same and lifts a hand back to his head, rubbing the base of his skull like it might help.

“Getting worse?” Daniel has lowered his voice intentionally, frowning at Jack with a worried expression.

“Yeah. Kinda.” He doesn’t think that their affliction is necessarily what’s making his headache worse, but the guilt might be. Daniel nods and looks away from him. Jack looks down for a moment and then back up, intending to offer some sort of apology, as useless as that might be, but a shadow fills the cave entrance and quickly resolves into Teal’c, who frowns at both of them as he takes in their deteriorating condition. “Hey, Teal’c.”  
  
“Dr. Fraiser and Captain Carter have had little success in healing the alien.”

“Well I think…Daniel and I are coming down with something too.” The frown Daniel is aiming at him is a little accusing, and definitely wounded, and he just grimaces a little. Apology and groveling later, then, but in the meantime, “How are you doing?”

“I remain unaffected,” Teal’c says, but he’s frowning at Jack too, clearly aware that something has happened.

“I think we should probably go back and get checked out, huh?” Jack phrases it like a suggestion, forcing himself to keep his voice low and quiet, and Daniel gives him a jerky nod of acquiescence.

Teal’c helps them both to their feet, and Jack hurries as fast as his protesting body will allow towards the edge of the village, turning back to see that Daniel had gone instead to his video camera, Teal’c following closely. His stomach clenches a little; he wouldn’t blame Daniel for not wanting to be anywhere near him right now, nor for telling Teal’c that Jack had basically assaulted him a few minutes ago for no reason. He can’t hear their short exchange, but since the Jaffa doesn’t come storming over to knock Jack flat, he is guessing Daniel doesn’t say anything. Teal’c is, after all, perhaps even more protective of Daniel than Jack is.

From his crouched position, Daniel gives Jack a hesitant look, and Jack tries to appear calm and reassuring. The scientist rises slowly, not as wobbly as the aliens but looking less than not great, and moves slowly over to join Jack. His eyes are half-closed as they walk out into the barren expanse between the village and the stargate, and he hasn’t even bothered to swing his pack onto his shoulders. He looks like crap, honestly, way worse than Jack feels.

“You gonna make this?” Jack pauses, and Daniel looks back towards the village but can’t seem to form a response. Jack decides it’s better to drag him to the Stargate than leave him without help in the village. “Come on.” He puts his hand back on Daniel’s elbow, supporting this time, and moves him forward, wanting now to get Daniel into Janet’s hands as soon as possible.

* * *

Sometime later, they’re sitting side by side on the same infirmary bed where Janet has planted them after their tests.

“Listen. I, uh…” Jack knows he sucks at apologies, even as he trails off.

“No, no.” Daniel starts to say at the same time, but when Jack stops he seems to get nervous about interrupting him. “Um…Sorry. You were going to say?”

“No, it's just that, uh…Well…You know.” He wants to apologize for the brief spanking, for his short temper, but he knows there are a lot of cameras on them and trails off again, feeling like a middle school boy trying to talk to a first crush or something.

“No, I know. I know. You know that I…” Daniel’s looking at his lap, blushing, and Jack doesn’t need him to finish to know that the archaeologist is beating himself up over yelling at Jack, no matter that Jack had yelled first.

“I know. It's obvious there's something...”

“…wrong with us.” Daniel finishes for him, sneaking a glance upwards.

“Physically.” That they say together, and it earns him a tiny little imitation of a Daniel Jackson smile. He’s about to celebrate that success by reaching over to pat Daniel’s back, but they’re interrupted by Janet’s cheerful return, and he has to fall silent again.

* * *

They don’t have any more time alone until he follows Daniel down to his lab, and that doesn’t go well at all. Daniel is visibly frustrated at their failure to help the childlike alien race, and Jack doesn’t really have anything to help him. This time Jack keeps his calm, hands shoved into his pockets, even when Daniel starts yelling, and sweeps his work off his desk in temper.

Daniel and Sam come up with some sort of bad-sound theory, and Janet confirms that could be the cause of Daniel and Jack’s symptoms. Teal’c arrives to further corroborate that theory, and Jack feels the punch of guilt again when the warrior confirms that the plants did, indeed, rise out of the ground if left alone for long enough. If Jack had just believed Daniel on that point from the start, maybe they would have figured this out sooner.

SG-1’s two scientists are off to the races from that point with a solution, and in the end, they have to drag Daniel off the planet. He wants to know how their society works, of course – but Janet is anxious to have them back on base for observation to make sure there are no lasting effects from the sound, and General Hammond is reluctant to waste SG-1’s time on a civilization that seems unlikely to have anything to offer them in the way of technology or alliance.

He debriefs alone with the General, releasing the rest of SG-1 to get cleaned up, so it is another few hours before he goes looking for Daniel. His team is gathered in an off-duty room, chatting amiably, but when he props himself up by the doorway, Daniel sees him first and goes silent. Sam is oblivious, but Teal’c picks up on the tension quickly.

“Captain Carter, I find I am quite hungry. Will you join me for the evening meal?”

“Yeah, Teal’c, I’m hungry too. You coming, Daniel?” Sam jumps down from the table she’s sitting on, looking expectant, but Daniel smiles a little and shakes his head.

“We’ll catch up in a minute.”

“We…?” At Sam’s confusion, Daniel looks towards Jack in the doorway. “Oh, uh, hi, Sir. See you guys in a few, I guess.” Jack nods at them and walks over to sit down in the chair by Daniel when Teal’c and Sam are gone.

“Hey,” Daniel says quietly, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Hey.” They sit in silence for a moment, and Jack knows he’s going to have to be the one who breaks the ice. He is the one most at fault, and the one in charge. “Look, Danny, I’m sorry. Really sorry. I should never have…I lost my temper, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Daniel looks up at him finally, shrugging a little. “It wasn’t your fault, you were affected pretty strongly by that planet.” He doesn’t sound quite alright, but he’s also not giving Jack what-for for what he did, either.

“I understand if you want to…not do what we’ve been doing anymore.” Jack stumbles over still trying to not say anything incriminating out loud. This isn’t a surveillance-free room any more than the infirmary was. “If I’ve…lost your trust. Or even if you want to be reassigned, I can make that happen also-“  
  
“No, Jack, don’t be ridiculous.” Daniel grabs his wrist, looking frustrated, then lets go when Jack looks up at him. “You’re human. You’re going to make mistakes like the rest of us. And you didn’t hurt me. Even if you’d given me a full…uh…talking to-“ Jack’s not sure Daniel could get much redder now, but he forces himself not to smile. “You’d not have really hurt me. I guess you just hurt my feelings more than anything, because I do remember what you said. But it’s not like I didn’t say and do worse, under the influence of the sarcophagus.”

“You know I didn’t mean any of it, right?”  
  
“Yeah, Jack. I know. I’ll be okay.” A tentative smile, but not a good enough one.

“You know, we’re not scheduled for any urgent missions. I can probably talk to the General, see if we can’t take a couple of days after all, and go back to PJ2-445, give you some time to play with your new friends.”

Personally, he thinks his peace offering is a little weak, but Danny smiles brightly at him. “Thanks, Jack.” He accepts Jack’s help getting to his feet, and they start towards the mess to join Sam and Teal’c. “You know,” He hesitates, glances up at Jack through his fringe of hair, “this weekend there’s a new exhibit opening in D.C. …”

“Sure, Daniel, I’ll get us a flight to D.C. but I’m sitting somewhere with my crossword while you ogle the exhibits.” He’s rewarded with another warm smile, which makes giving up his weekend of beer and fishing probably worth it. He reaches over Daniel to pull the mess door open.  
  
“And, I’ve been meaning to go through the last year’s mission reports and compare any unfinished translations to new data we’ve gathered but they’re hard files already stored a few levels up…”  
  
“Don’t push it, Dannyboy.” He mock-frowns at the archaeologist, who is looking at him very seriously. “What?”  
  
“Jack, I would have forgiven you with just the apology, you know.” The colonel growls and swipes at him, but Daniel has already ducked out of reach, laughing, and is halfway to the table where their team is, telling them loudly about Jack agreeing to go to his new exhibit over the weekend to make sure Jack can’t back out. Jack shakes his head, muttering about brats and archaeologists under his breath, and turns towards the line to get food, but he’s smiling when he does it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I watch this episode I just think Jack looks and acts too guilty to have /just/ yelled at Daniel. After they show Daniel and Jack having their alien-sound-induced fight he just constantly looks guilty and upset, and is extra careful for most of the rest of the episode. So, I just gave him something to feel guilty about (more than JUST saying mean things to Danny, which he should be sorry about anyway... ). #sorrynotsorry


	5. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack and Daniel discuss the meaning of "no", Daniel learns that Jack doesn't forget the promises he makes, and the boys work through some Big Feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Recap: S3E8 (“Demons”) The team travels to a primitive planet with medieval Christian beliefs, where the people are terrorized by an Unas-Goa’uld that they think is a demon. They regularly sacrifice people, chosen by the Canon (village/religious leader), to the Unas so it will leave them alone. They rescue the girl intended as the current sacrifice, Mary, who the villagers believe is ‘possessed’ but in reality, only has chickenpox. As a result the Canon uses his technological ring to knock out the team and claims they are possessed; Teal’c is accused of witchcraft and seemingly killed by the drowning trial. The Canon releases the rest of the team but despite Jack saying no, Daniel insists on trying to help Mary and prevent the Canon and the village monk from drilling a hole in her brain. While he is arguing with the Canon, Teal’c wakes up (his symbiote having sustained his life and healed him), and with this ‘evidence’ of demonic influence and Daniel having pissed him off, the Canon orders the team and Mary to be offered to the Unas. During their efforts to escape, the Goa’uld jumps from the Unas to the Canon and Sam kills both symbiote and host, and they recommend that the villagers bury the Stargate after they leave. 
> 
> Other episodes directly referenced: S3E4 (“Legacy”) aka the one where Daniel gets wrongly diagnosed with schizophrenia, drugged and committed, and the team don’t believe him for a while about the fact that he’s not crazy.

Daniel has been expecting him. He’s perched at his desk, ostensibly working, but at least half of his attention is on the open door. A part of him wonders why he didn’t just leave after Janet cleared him Goa’uld-and-injury-free, but the bigger part of his mind knows that he’ll have to face Jack eventually, and there’s no real point in putting it off.

So, when the colonel walks into his office and closes the door behind himself, Daniel is almost relieved to be able to drop the pretense of working on his post-mission report and turn his attention to his inevitable doom.

Honestly, right up until the Canon had them chained up in the center of town to await the Unas, Daniel had been pretty sure that Jack would let the rest of it slide. Of course, his acidic statement to Sam ( _‘Major, next time Daniel gets the urge to help someone, shoot him.’_ ) had not been particularly promising, but if they had managed to talk their way out of it, he might have been able to apologize his way out of further repercussions.

He has done exactly that on several occasions recently since the disaster with Ma’chello’s Goa’uld killing bugs. All of his friends had felt bad for not believing that Daniel wasn’t going crazy, but Jack and General Hammond in particular had been going out of their way to make it up to Daniel, and he had taken full advantage of Jack walking on eggshells for about a month now. A little bit of the big-eyed sad-puppy routine and a genuine apology had been going a lot further than it usually did.

Judging by the deep frown lines between his colonel’s eyebrows now, Daniel is guessing that not only will that tactic not be particularly effective today, but also that Jack might have realized he’s been being played.

Jack shoves his hands in his pockets and looks directly at him for a moment, and when the scrutinizing stare starts to get to Daniel after a long stretch, he is the one to break the tense quiet.

“Hi Jack,” he intends it to be blithe and unconcerned, and winces to himself when it comes out more on the side of slightly hesitant.

Those assessing brown eyes stay rested on his face another couple of heartbeats and then drift thoughtfully to the cameras they both know are in the corner facing Daniel’s desk. When he looks back over, he makes a show of pulling his keys out of his pockets and holding them up.

“You ready to go?”

“You know, I really should stay here and catch up on some of these translations for SG-9 and that briefing on the river planet for SG-5…” Even knowing it has a snowball’s chance in hell of working, he tries the deferral with his most convincing absent-minded-scholar smile, reaching for some files on his desk and pulling them towards himself.

“I think those will keep for another time,” Jack responds dryly. “And the discussion you promised me about the theory of chain of command and the relative outcomes of disregarding orders in the field is more pressing, dontcha think?”

In this case, he seriously doubts that Jack is using the word ‘discussion’ with any definition he’s interested in, but he’s being offered a graceful way to agree to leave for the night without losing face from his own stubbornness, and the last thing he wants is to give bored security personnel a show if Jack has to get more creative or physical to get him moving.

Resigned, he reaches for his keys and bag on a deep sigh. “Sure, Jack."

* * *

The ride from the mountain to Jack’s house is silent. Despite that, the habits of moving around Jack’s house in a sort of synchronous orbit around his best friend, getting rid of the day’s detritus and eventually coming together to settle on the evening’s next step is too routine to feel uncomfortable, so the butterflies don’t start to populate Daniel’s stomach until he’s facing Jack across the expanse of the other man’s living room. Jack looks casual with his hands shoved in his pockets again and leaning back against the arm of the couch, while Daniel wraps his arms around himself and watches warily from safely out of arm’s reach.

“Jack…” Now, away from the base, he allows himself the slight whine that he didn’t want to sink to in his office. There’s no way this is going to end any way except with him over the other man’s knees, and the truth of that fully sinking in is unpleasant.

“Daniel…” Rather than starting the conversation, Jack just mimics his whine in a slightly mocking tone.

“Can’t we just say all’s well that ends well?” Despite knowing that he’ll feel better afterward, that Jack giving him a spanking now will allow both of them to move on completely, somehow when it comes down to crunch time, it’s still hard to just give himself over to the next few minutes knowing he certainly won’t feel better _during_.

“It ended well because we got lucky,” Jack’s voice lowers and hardens a touch. “And because Simon found a little backbone. If you hadn’t gone rogue, we could have taken Teal’c's body and been back to the Stargate before he woke up, and never been offered up as an Unas sacrifice at all.”

“That girl would have died from the trepanning procedure, Jack!”

“And you would have died if the Canon accused you of witchcraft if you helped her!” Jack pushes off of the arm of the couch as his voice rises, “Unlike Teal’c, you don’t have a snake in your gut to keep you from drowning!” He pulls a hand out of his pocket to point an accusatory finger at Daniel, cutting off whatever Daniel is opening his mouth to say; “And whatever argument you are about to make doesn’t matter, because I said no, which was pretty damn clear and absolutely not up for debate.”

Snapping his mouth closed on words unsaid, because he honestly hadn’t considered the possibility that the Canon would accuse him of witchcraft as well, and admitting to that wasn’t going to make Jack any happier, Daniel can feel the guilt rising as Jack tears down his walls of self-righteousness.

“What part of ‘no’ was unclear to you, Daniel?”  
  
“I couldn’t stand by and let them kill her!”

“That’s why I’m in charge. You let me shoulder those choices, and when I give an order to _get out of a dangerous situation_ after we’ve _already lost a teammate_ , you follow orders!”

Shifting uneasily, Daniel looks down so he won’t have to meet Jack’s angry gaze and admits to himself that he has no other good arguments, or any arguments at all really. He knew ignoring Jack’s order was the wrong call, and he did it anyway. There’s a rustle of movement and when he glances through his fringe of hair Jack has stepped closer to him again, head slightly tilted as he considers Daniel. “How much of today was because I’ve been letting things slide since PY3-948?”

He can’t summon any response except a shrug without totally incriminating himself, but that seems to be more than enough information for Jack.

“Right, that’s what I thought. Okay, Daniel, I’m hearing you loud and clear.” Jack turns away and with movements that are becoming uncomfortably recognizable, settles himself in the center of the couch, and holds out a hand. “Come here.”

This is the hardest part because he knows no matter how frustrated he is, Jack won’t lay a single hand on him without his consent, and willingly handing himself over to be thoroughly and painfully spanked reminds him that this was all his idea in the first place. Sighing and reminding himself again that the result is always worth it, he forces himself to step forward and put his hand in Jack’s.

That’s all he can manage on his own today, but as usual, his colonel is already seemingly aware of where Daniel’s head is at, and Jack uses that grasp to draw him over between his knees where he can unfasten Daniel’s slacks and push them and his underwear down to his knees. His mind is sharply focused on the warm hands that hold on his sides and guide him down over Jack’s lap, his upper body resting on the couch cushion and his legs stretched out behind him, his bare butt presented as the perfect target.

Jack says something, but Daniel doesn’t understand it over the roaring in his head. A firm tap in the center of his back and a hand appearing in his line of vision jerks him back to the present. “Glasses,” Jack repeats, hand opening and waiting expectantly, and Daniel is glad nobody is here to see him flush as he takes them off and hands them over, aware even as he does that Jack’s laying them on the table out of harm’s way because Daniel will probably struggle and will be crying when they’re finished.

The first firm swat takes him by surprise, falling without any other warning, and that’s his first sign that Jack really is more upset than usual; the realization sweeps through him accompanied by a surge of remorse as Jack’s hand falls again, leaving a sharp sting on the other side. Jack doesn’t spank with any sort of pattern, but every swat seems perfectly placed to get his attention. Daniel buries his face in his folded arms and tries not to squirm as Jack lands swat after swat.

He’s breathless and whining quietly with every spank, toes digging into the carpet to avoid kicking his legs, when Jack starts focusing on the lower curves of his bottom and his upper thighs. “I’m sorry! Jack!” he lifts his head to cry the words out, giving up entirely on trying to be quiet.

“I don’t give orders in the field because I like to hear myself talk.” Apparently, Jack was waiting for Daniel to break the silence. After a few more swats right where his bottom meets his thighs, each an explosion of stinging pain, Jack returns his attention to the fleshiest parts of his target and keeps scolding as he raises the temperature from uncomfortable to unbearable. “I always take your opinion into account, but it’s my call to make those decisions for the team, and when I say no it’s not open for interpretation. Are we clear?”

“Yes!” He wants to be embarrassed at the way he kicks out now, struggling with every movement to worm his way off of Jack’s lap, and tears are threatening to spill out of his full eyes. “Crystal clear!”

“Neat.” His captor lands another dozen swats and then pauses a second, shifting and leaning over Daniel’s prone form. He goes limp where he is, without the energy to move. Vaguely, he’s not sure why Jack stopped before he reduced him to his usual tears and heartfelt ‘sorries’, but he’s grateful for the moment to catch his breath. He _is_ sorry that he had rushed off to help that girl – he knows Jack doesn’t tell him no unless he has a good reason and being upset about losing Teal’c wasn’t a good excuse for being stupidly stubborn. A rustle of cloth and papers as Jack moves something on the table and then he straightens. “I’m going to give you a really good reason not to do it again, even when you think I’m wrong.” For a second, he can feel something cool and smooth resting on his bottom but before he can think too much about it, it lifts away and snaps back down at the top of his bottom.

“OW!” His whole body stiffens, a second scorching circle landing on his other cheek before he has even finished crying out. He throws his hand back, but as if Jack can read his mind, it’s pinned to the center of his back before he can even finish the movement and Jack lands another swat on each check, slightly lower than the first set. Yelping and twisting, he tries to catch a glimpse of the weapon Jack is wielding, but with Jack’s elbow set firmly between his shoulder blades he can’t lift up enough to get a good look. Every smack feels like being stung by a hundred little bees in one spot, the sting making him jerk his whole body with every swat.

“I’m sorry! Jack! Ow!” Another inch down and another pair of swats, and then a fourth set below that. Daniel kicks hard, scissoring his legs and trying to swim forward and escape Jack’s firm hold. Swats nine and ten land on each sit spot and he gives in to the tears. “S-sorry,” he manages to get out, “Sorry ‘ck!” Eleven and twelve find their spot unerringly on the top of each thigh, and he goes limp, not noticing when Jack drops the implement but curling closer around Jack’s body when he starts to rub his hand up and down the length of his spine.

“We’re done, Danny,” he’s vaguely aware of being lifted upright, his underwear slid gently back over his butt, and arms wrapping around him, tucking his head under Jack’s chin. “Easy, kid, you’re okay.”

The words sound incredibly far away, and the tears are still coming fast and hard. Daniel gradually starts to feel his heart and lungs beginning to race. It’s as if once the floodgates opened, all of the things he’d buried and refused to acknowledge come swarming to the surface.

He remembers the feeling of slowly going mad, the fear and the utter helplessness of being trapped with his thoughts spiraling, unable to sort any of them out under the influence of MacKenzie’s drugs. The utter despair when he thinks he might be stuck in that padded room, in his own brain, forever. He remembers, too, the deep grief at each hesitation in their actions and thoughts even after he’s released from the mental ward. Jack is shaking underneath Daniel’s grasp. “Danny, breathe. In and out.” Jack issues the order in a gentle but unyielding tone.

Oh. Maybe _Daniel’s_ the one shaking. He grips the soft material of Jack’s t-shirt in both hands to try and stay still and tries to inhale, but a fresh wave of tears prevents him from getting any real air into his lungs. “Everything’s ok, a clean slate, we’re okay. You have to calm down.” Jack’s voice is starting to sound alarmed, but his hand rubbing underneath Daniel’s shirt is still calm and soothing.

“S-s-sorry,” he gasps out, “I-I…y-you….” The archaeologist can’t get enough air to finish his sentence, much less think clearly, so he gives up and leans into Jack’s firm hold. Several minutes pass of this, his colonel’s voice a warm and concerned wash of white noise over his own stuttered breathing, but every time he thinks he might have it under control the tears come again. 

“Dannyboy, if you can’t calm down I’m going to have to call someone for help. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Jack stops rubbing his back and tries to lift him away, but Daniel, shaking his heart vehemently ‘no’, clings to him with a complete lack of self-consciousness and presses his ear to Jack’s chest and tries to match their heartbeats.

That works, finally, and the tears taper off, leaving him with just very shaky breathing and still wrapped around Jack as if they can merge into one being if he tries hard enough. Jack doesn’t ask anything of him until he’s completely boneless and quiet, each inhalation timed to match Jack’s own so that he doesn’t have to think about them for himself.

“Ok, kid, what was that?” It’s almost a growl, but now that his mind is starting to work again, Daniel can hear the fear underneath driving the growling and he doesn’t feel threatened in the least. “Did I hurt you? Do I need to get Doc?”

“N-not t’ spanking.” He mumbles it into the shirt in front of him, completely and utterly mortified now but still unwilling to give up his spot in Jack’s arms while it’s still acceptable for him to be here in these post-spanking moments.  
  
“Ooookay, not the spanking. Something else I said?” Daniel shakes his head in the negative. “Something else I did?” After a moment’s hesitation, he disagrees with another head shake, but it’s less emphatic. Nothing about his ordeal at MacKenzie’s hands had been _Jack’s fault_ , per se, but it certainly hadn’t helped his emotional state when even Jack believed he was crazy.

“E-everyone assumed I was nuts,” Starting to feel like he can breathe fully again, the risk of hyperventilating fading, he manages to get that out with only a slight hitch to the words. Because his ear is pressed against Jack’s chest, he can hear the way his friend’s breath catches, the couple of out-of-rhythm heartbeats. One of Jack’s steady hands resumes it’s steady rubbing on his back and the other is laid gently on his head, even as he whispers the rest of it that he hadn’t said to anyone since it happened. “I _wasn’t_ crazy. But I _was_ scared.”

“Danny, we’re more sorry about that then I think we can ever express to you. _I’m_ so sorry.” The older man matches his whispered words now, head ducked low over Daniel’s. “After everything we’ve been through I should never have doubted you when you said something else was going on, but even when Janet thought you were a danger to yourself, we should never have let that moron take you away. It won’t ever happen again.”

He doesn’t have to look up into his friend’s face to hear the regret. Daniel is very much guilty of keeping his history very private, but Jack knows and understands more than anybody how being rejected by his living relatives after his parent’s deaths and shuffled from foster home to foster home and then being shunned by his friends and colleagues when he presented his research and theories had affected him, and why being abandoned to MacKenzie’s whims had hit him so hard.

Though neither one of them had expected that fun little episode he’d just had. Part panic attack, part residual feelings Daniel supposes. “Promise?” At the risk of sounding about twelve years old, he says it anyway, wanting the reassurance more than his dignity at the moment.

“I promise, Daniel, I swear it to you. I won’t let it happen again.” A pause, and then Jack continues, “I’m pretty sure at this point that if MacKenzie so much as breathes in your direction, Teal’c is going to murder him anyway.” It’s intended to make him laugh, and he summons a shaky chuckle to make Jack feel successful.

Jack gives him another minute, but Daniel can feel him take a deep breath before his next statement, and it’s accompanied by hands on his sides, pushing him far enough back so that Jack can look down into his face. “You know, Danny, you could have just talked to me about how you were feeling, rather than basically spending the last month daring me to spank you? I know I razz you a lot, but you can always talk to me.”

“It doesn’t always work like that,” Daniel tries hard to duck out from Jack’s warm gaze, knowing that he’s flushed dark red again and the knowledge that given the time to think about it, the colonel had very much been able to go back and realize how far and how hard Daniel had been pushing on the last few missions, and if they’re being honest, even just in their day-to-day interactions around the base. If General Hammond didn’t feel just as bad about the MacKenzie issue, he’s pretty sure the General would have already called him on some of his ridiculously…well, for lack of a more mature term, bratty behaviors.

“Well, kid, you better work on figuring it out because if you get seriously hurt on a mission because you’re trying to get a reaction out of me, you’re _not_ going to like the reaction you get.” He can feel Jack’s dark eyes boring into him as he growls that out, and darts his eyes up to meet his friend’s gaze for a sliver of time before looking away with a sheepish nod of acquiescence. But, as he’s shifting to try and settle himself on the cushion next to Jack instead of wrapped around him like a koala, he’s reminded that while the panic attack might have been causing his absolute meltdown, his bottom HURTS, and then he remembers those last completely nasty twelve swats and raises his head to give Jack a completely offended pout.

“That wasn’t your hand!”

Jack’s gazing back, not looking particularly sympathetic. “I told you last time we talked about blatantly disobeying orders in the field that the next time it happened, I was going to give you some other incentive.”

“It hurt!” Daniel tries to twist his upper body without moving his lower half to figure out what Jack had smacked him with. Jack’s still giving him a little bit of the evil eye as he thinks back on the actual act which landed Daniel over his knees this time, but relents and leans over to pick something up off the floor, where it got tossed when he found himself with an armful of completely distraught archaeologist. Sitting back up and shifting both of them so Daniel is sitting off his butt and leaning most of his weight on Jack’s side, he holds the offending item out like he thinks Daniel might want to take it.

Daniel has absolutely no idea what he was expecting – some sort of strap? A medieval torture device? – but what Jack is holding is a harmless looking wooden spoon from the kitchen, which he must have grabbed as they were putting their work stuff down without Daniel realizing it. There’s nothing special about it, though Daniel thinks the working end looks suspiciously large and flat, nothing like the flimsy things in his own kitchen that he’d gotten five-for-a-dollar from the grocery store when he moved into his apartment. It certainly doesn’t look like something that can sting that bad, and he refuses to take it from Jack. “That thing is evil.”

“Good.” Jack says it with all the blunt authority he’s gained over the years as an officer in the United States Airforce. “Then I know it makes an impression. _Don’t_ do it again. One of these times we’re not going to get lucky.”

The tone of voice hits Daniel right in the gut and makes him almost tear up, and he wants soft-and-comforting Jack back, so he squeaks out “Sorry, Jack,” and ducks his head, putting his face back against the solid shoulder beside him. Jack makes a strange sound and wraps his arm around Daniel, rubbing his hand up and down his arm now. But maybe all _is_ well that ends well, or anyway, Daniel thinks maybe _he’s_ well again, and _his_ end is certainly _well_ -smacked. But he might slip that spoon into the fireplace the next time he’s over, and replace it with something less threatening. Just in case.


	6. Forever in a Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in Daniel's subconscious, he doesn't always make the best decisions. But since Sha're just died in front of him, can we really blame him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I’d written half of this chapter from Jack’s POV while watching the episode, and was pretty pleased with it, before I remembered that in the end it’s revealed that Daniel was hallucinating the whole time. So that got scrapped….whohoo wasted time lol. In that version, Danny was definitely getting a smacked butt for what he did. In this version, since none of it actually happened, you just get Feelings. But, from a perspective of Important Things in the Life of Jack & Daniel, I still felt like this story arc couldn’t be skipped. So here we go.
> 
> Relevant episode recaps found in the author's notes at the end, if you want to read them.

Every time, he knows it’s not right. He should tell someone that he’s hallucinating his dead wife. Hallucinations have rarely been a good thing for anyone who’s been through the Stargate. But each time he wakes from his incredibly realistic dreams of Sha’re, and thinks about opening his mouth to confess, he remembers his experience being drugged and confined to a white padded room, and he says nothing.

After he resigns from the SGC, the day Sam and Jack help him take all of his stuff (and a few artifacts he knows nobody will miss) back to his apartment, he almost tells Jack. It’s after Sam rushes out, when his best friend wraps his arms around him in a tight hug. He can tell that Jack doesn’t believe he’ll be able to stay away from the Stargate, but that he’s trying to give Daniel space. He appreciates that more than Jack will ever know, but he lets himself have the hug too, and leans into the comfort offered for as long as he can without giving the colonel a chance to pry. In the end, he doesn’t say anything to Jack because if he admits to the visions, he won’t get the space he’s craving to grieve.

The day of Sha’re’s funeral, he almost tells Janet. She and Hammond have come to Abydos with Sam, Jack, and Daniel; she pulls him aside before they go and insists on giving him a brief physical. When he argues that he’s no longer a member of the SCG, she reminds him that even civilian visitors intending to go through the Stargate get cleared through medical. Sitting on the familiar infirmary bed, it’s on the tip of his tongue to tell her about Sha’re, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He likes Janet, he would trust her with his physical health under any circumstances, but she’d been the one to call in MacKenzie and turn him over. His stomach turns to ice, and he says nothing.

When he comes back to Cheyenne Mountain to talk to Sam, his resolve is starting to falter. Something is wrong. If Sha’re really is communicating to him about finding the Harsesis – Shifu – he’ll need his team and the Stargate to have the slightest hope of succeeding. If she’s not real, he probably needs medical help…but he can’t bear to give up even these strange dreams of her, not now that she’s gone forever. Coming down the ramp from the Gate, Jack’s smug, thinking he’s already changed his mind about resigning, and Daniel refuses to look at him. If he’s questioning himself, Jack will see through it in a heartbeat. Better to keep him at arm’s length. Teal’c is a different story – Daniel knows he was unfair in the way he blamed his friend for choosing his life over that of a Goa’uld, and his apology is heartfelt. Grilling Sam about what she knows about the hand device, her face is so open and concerned, he almost spills everything to her about the visions he’s experiencing, but after a moment of hesitation, he lets her believe that the incident he was asking her about was only during the few moments Amaunet tortured him and walks away.

His master plan to avoid Jack goes up in flames when he gets back to his apartment and the colonel is sprawled comfortably in ‘his’ corner of Daniel’s couch, with Kasuf standing looking totally out of place in a set of BDUs. That’s a problem – because Daniel doesn’t know if Kasuf is real, or part of the visions. Uncomfortably aware of Jack’s eyes on the back of his head, he decides to play it safe and assume his father-in-law is real, so he gently tries to explain that he’s resigned from the SGC and has no intentions to keep traveling through the Gate now that he has failed to save his wife.

Kasuf, of course, doesn’t accept that and starts talking about Shifu, which is dangerous territory because of course Daniel hasn’t told Jack anything about it. He sneaks a glance over at the man on the couch, hoping Jack will have gotten bored and not be paying attention, but no such luck. If anything, he’s more alert than he was a few minutes ago. Trying to act casual he downplays it as best as he can but then of course Kasuf has to go and gesture to the bedroom door like he expects Sha’re to be standing behind it.

He’d assume that Kasuf is a hallucination based on that, except Jack can see him too. Daniel can’t hide the wince this time as he sneaks another look at Jack, who is starting to look pretty sharply interested – and not happy. Before he can say anything Daniel will have to answer, Daniel moves quickly to the bedroom door and throws it open into the sand and hot wind of Abydos, with Sha're beckoning him forward. Maybe Jack _and_ Kasuf were hallucinations this time. They’re gone when he wakes up.

Teal’c is genuinely pleased to see him, and Daniel almost tells him that he’s seeing Sha’re. Teal’c is the most open-minded of his teammates about…alien-y…things, and he’s sure that his protective friend would defend his sanity, but Teal’c has no authority if Janet and Hammond think he’s insane. So he just gives Teal’c a little smile and walks away, to go get his job back so he can get through the Stargate. He’s expecting more pushback from Jack, honestly; hurting the colonel’s feelings usually engenders a somewhat unproportionate response, and quitting SG-1 and pushing them away had certainly hurt Jack's feelings. Thankfully, his friend only gives him a little razzing for his sudden change of heart, seeming mostly relieved and happy to have Daniel back on the team.

That makes him feel more guilty than keeping the secret about the visions. Even as he hides a smile at the way Jack hustles Rothman out of the Gate room as if to clear Daniel’s spot before he has a chance to reconsider, his stomach clenches on the guilt. Not telling anyone about the visions of Sha’re is bad enough, but Jack is going to kill him for the rest of his plan. This is probably his last trip through the Stargate, honestly, because once Jack catches up with him there won’t be enough of him left to revive, much less make a functional member of an SG team. Usually, he acts without thinking it through and realizes later how mad Jack is going to be...this is the first time he's doing with complete foresight. But he has to speak to Sha're again and get answers. 

The planet is very pink. Sam is off immediately to do her samples, Teal’c watching her back, so Daniel walks away from the Gate with Jack, forcing light and joking responses out around the rock lodged in his throat so that Jack won’t suspect anything. There’s no visual sign of an enemy so the team leader is relaxed, back turned as he walks away from Daniel to inspect some of the colorful plant life, and Daniel hurries back to the Gate as quietly and quickly as his feet will carry him. He dials out and, before he can lose his nerve to the guilt butterflies that feel more like rampaging guilt hornets at this point, he runs through the Gate with Jack’s shout echoing in his ears.

* * *

He has no idea how much time has passed when Jack sits down next to him. Daniel’s still supposed to be in the infirmary – Janet gets weird about the lingering effects of Goa’uld devices and SG-1’s brains, but he hadn’t been able to stand it anymore. The lights were too bright, too many voices as the medical staff worked their way through the rescued Abydonians who had been pushed back while the critically injured were stabilized first.

Sha’re’s body is on the gurney a few feet away, wrapped in clean linen, and awaiting transport when the Abydonians are ready to go back through the Gate. Kasuf had overseen the preparations while Daniel was unconscious. Which he had been, apparently, for a couple of hours. Jack reaches over and twists his arm, inspecting the bloody spot where he had ripped out the IV. It’s a dried smear now, so he lets go when Daniel tugs. Silently, he holds out a green BDU jacket, and that’s when Daniel realizes how cold the room is, especially because all he’s wearing on his top half is a hospital gown. He takes the proffered garment and even lets Jack steady him as he shrugs it on.

The next item Jack holds out is a bottle of water. Daniel shakes his head, so Jack sets it down in easy reach. There’s a rustle of pockets being searched, and a chocolate bar is set down next to the water. The final destination of Jack’s right arm is over Daniel’s shoulders, tugging him a little closer. He accepts the contact, staring silent and unseeing at his wife’s body for a long time.

“Jack?” The colonel’s head is tipped back against the wall, eyes closed, but he makes a noise of acknowledgment and opens his eyes when summoned. “I really…I really thought we could save her.”

Jack doesn’t say anything, just tightens his arm around Daniel’s shoulders for a minute; there’s nothing he can say to make it better. Daniel picks up the water bottle, for something to do with his hands, twisting the cap on and off and on and off. After a minute, one of Jack’s hands gets in his way and takes the cap, pushing the hand holding the bottle up a little bit towards Daniel’s face. “If you drink that, I can probably talk Doc into the IV not going back in.”

Obediently, Daniel takes a drink. It makes his dry mouth feel a little more human, so he takes a few more sips. When half the bottle is gone, he lowers it between his bent knees and clears his throat. “Will you tell me what happened?” Jack turns towards him and Daniel looks over into a frowning face, one that says pretty clearly _‘If you don’t remember what happened maybe you need to be back in the infirmary’_ and quickly backpedals. “No, I remember but…” Daniel swallows hard. “When Amaunet was using the hand device, Sha’re was doing…something. I hallucinated…a lot. And…I just need to know that I didn’t do any of it.”

“Well, we went to P8X-873 with several teams of marines to rescue Kasuf and the other Abydonians. It was a trap, of course, but we expected that. We took out all of Amaunet’s Jaffa because we were expecting them.” Jack picks up the chocolate bar and unwraps the first square, holding it out. Daniel takes it so Jack will keep talking, setting it on his tongue, but it is tasteless as it melts. “I turned around and you were running towards her, but we were pretty pinned down. Teal’c got free first and went after you, and found Amaunet killing you with a ribbon device, so he shot her.”

“So I was out of sight what….ten minutes? Fifteen?”  
  
“Five, tops.”

“I have several days worth of memories.” Daniel accepts another square of the chocolate bar, but just holds it carefully in his fingers and looks down. “Most of which don’t feel much like me.” He looks up at the ceiling. “I quit the SGC. In my hallucinations…I was having visions. Of Sha’re, telling me I needed to find something. I didn’t tell any of you. I came back to SG-1 and then went a little rogue, and went through the Stargate back to P8X-873 without you guys. Sha’re was there and she told me a lot of things…and then Teal’c came.” He can't bear to say, even now, that Teal'c had killed her.

“Daniel?” Jack’s voice sounds….odd.

Daniel looks over at him, questioning. “Jack?”

“That sounds _exactly_ like you.”

A wave of indignation flushes through him, and Daniel can’t help but glare for a moment, but it was his subconscious that created a lot of those situations. The visions had been too detailed, too real, for most of it to have come from Sha’re _or_ Amaunet. So, given that and his record, it’s not entirely unthinkable that he would have done any or all of that. A little sheepishly, he shrugs. “It felt terrible to keep those secrets, even in the visions, but I could justify it because I was thinking about MacKenzie. I didn’t think you guys would believe me. But going off through the Gate by myself…” he winces, even thinking of it now. “That was crossing a line, and even dream-me knew it when I was doing it. I knew you'd flip out and dream-me did it anyway. So I want you to know, about the visions. So I can’t do anything stupid.”

“Noted. We’ll keep an extra close eye on your wandering tendencies for a while.” Jack reaches over and flicks the water bottle, prompting Daniel to take another drink and eat another section of the candy bar. “Give yourself time to grieve, Danny. We can worry about visions and prophecies and stuff later.”

* * *

“Hey.” Jack finds him in his office a couple of weeks later. “Just wanted to see how you were doing.” It’s his first day back at work, though he’d been at the SGC to travel to the funeral and debrief about the rescue mission.

“Good.” He glances at the colonel out of the corner of his eye and revises that to, “Ok.” He’s spent more than a little time sitting on Jack’s couch recently, being impressively not good, and he knows Jack won’t buy that he’s suddenly one hundred percent recovered. Jack’s come around the worktable and is glancing at the contents of the fine woven basket Daniel’s examining. “Kasuf sent me some of Sha’re things after the funeral. He said that, uh,” he picks something up out of the basket and stares at it. “Well, he said that she would have wanted me to have them. We both drank from this cup at our wedding.”

Daniel sets it aside, refusing to remember his wedding. “I know I shouldn’t have had any real hope, but…”

“Hey. You can never give up.”

That feels ironic since Sha’re is more than gone now; they’ve buried her beneath the unforgiving sands of Abydos. “How about now?” he forces a humorless chuckle.

“Especially not now.” It’s certainly a turnaround, for Jack to be the optimist. Daniel doesn’t look at him. “Sha’re didn’t want you to just give up, did she? As I recall, she wants you to find the boy.” That gets his attention, and he looks up to find his friend’s brown gaze steady on him.

“I thought you said you didn’t believe me about Sha’re sending me the message through the hand device?” He can’t keep the hurt out of his voice at that. True to his word, he’d told his team and Hammond all about the visions he’d had under the influence of Amaunet’s torture, even the ones that didn’t paint him in the greatest light, and he’d gotten varying responses. Teal’c believed him, or at least he said he did, but Daniel didn’t know how much of that was hope for finding a Harsesis, how much was feeling guilty still about having to kill Sha’re, and how much he truly believed. Sam was on the fence; she admitted that there was a chance that it could happen but said they didn’t know enough about the Goa’uld technology. The general didn’t take a position, except that the Harsesis child would be very valuable if he was real. Jack had said that he thought Daniel’s visions were just things his mind had come up with to protect him from the torture of the hand device.

Unbelievably hurt, Daniel had told him when they left the briefing that he regretted telling them about the visions at all. It was the only night since it happened that Daniel had refused Jack’s company, locking himself in his base quarters instead and not speaking to the colonel at all until after the funeral, and that only when he had to. He’d stayed on Abydos with Kasuf for several days to complete various mourning rituals, and when he’d come back to Earth they’d both chosen to act like it hadn’t happened, until now.

“I’ve been wrong, about a lot of things.” Jack is still looking directly at him, and Daniel can see the sincerity in his face. “And I know I don’t always sound like I believe you, but I do believe _in_ you.” Something in Daniel’s chest unclenches, and when Jack moves the conversation to more casually discussing the actual effort to find the boy, Daniel lets him move them off of the emotional ground without protest. It’s the closest he’s going to get from Jack to an apology for what he’d said in the briefing room, and maybe it’s better than an apology. Having Jack’s support in the search for Shifu is more important than Jack believing Sha’re could send him messages through the hand device. It doesn’t matter if Jack thinks that Daniel was just able to finally connect dots in his head from his own studies about the child since they left him in Kasuf’s care the first time.

He finds the wedding cup a careful place on the shelf amongst his other treasures, next to a portrait of Sha're and a picture of SG-1. He packs the rest of what Kasuf had sent back into the basket and tucks it away. And when Jack invites him over for beer and a hockey game, he says yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Recaps
> 
> S3E10 (“Forever in a Day”): SG-1 and several other teams travel to P8X-873 to launch a rescue mission for some captured Abydonians. While the rest of SG-1 is battling an army of Jaffa, Daniel sees Amaunet (Sha’re) standing outside her tent and goes in by himself. Amaunet attacks him with a hand device, during which Sha’re manages to give Daniel a message about finding her son. Teal’c ends up shooting Amaunet/Sha’re to save Daniel. Before he does so, Daniel hallucinates several weeks of returning to Earth, including Sha’re’s funeral, resigning from the SGC, and seeing Sha’re many places telling him where to find her son. During this time dream-Daniel doesn't tell anyone that he's hallucinating.
> 
> S3E13 (“The Devil You Know”): The team is trapped in a hell-like prison trying to rescue Jacob Carter. They all get tortured by Apophis, who (surprise!) isn't dead. We get the super heartwarming moment between Jack and Daniel that must have happened sometime after Sha’re funeral, when Jack insists he believes in Daniel. Granted Daniel is being tortured (again) and it gets a little weird but since we know the memories that Apophis is manipulating were real memories to start with, we can assume that the fluffy part happened. ;)


	7. Shades of Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thieves, retirements, betrayals, but somehow still a happy ending. Nothing's boring at the SGC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More feelings for you. I forgot how many feelings episodes there were. 0_o Hopefully soon one of the episodes will inspire something a little lighter!
> 
> Relevant episode summaries can be found in the end author's notes.

It feels odd to be standing in front of the Stargate dressed in a suit instead of a combat uniform. Daniel has to resist the urge to pull out his paperwork and go over it again – but he knows the research and the talking points by heart, and another read-through isn’t going to change anything. They have high hopes that recently saving the entire Tollan homeworld will give them a new edge to negotiations, but it will take a lot of convincing for the inflexible Tollans to change their policies and share the technology Earth leadership wants.

He sneaks a glance at his team. Seeing Teal’c dressed in Earth dress clothes is always good for a smile; he’s adjusted quite well to the standard SGC uniform and even some casual clothes for spending time with the team off-base, but his style choices in formal wear always feel a little bit like a step back in time. Jack and Sam, of course, always look great in their dress blues, but his eyes linger on Jack.

Their leader has been distant and grumpy since Edora. Well, more grumpy than usual. At first, Daniel had been all aboard with the idea of giving him time – it was clear that something had happened with Laira, and they shouldn’t have been surprised. There had been chemistry between the colonel and the Edoran woman even before he was stranded, and a hundred days was a long time to be cut off. Still, Daniel was surprised and a little bit offended that Jack had given up as completely as his attachment to the blonde woman would have indicated – he had to have known the rest of SG-1 wouldn’t rest until they found a way to bring him home.

He had been careful not to push; if he’d been incredibly lonely without Jack, well, it couldn’t have been anything compared to how Jack had felt stranded there. Daniel had had Sam and Teal’c, after all, and Janet and Cassie and the few other friends he’s made on base. But a few weeks and a few missions later, it had become a matter of quiet concern amongst them that Jack was getting worse, not better.

On the last mission, Jack had so thoroughly chewed Daniel out over asking for a couple more minutes to study something, that even Sam had objected. Every time he tried to broach the subject of what was bothering Jack he’d been firmly rebuffed, so he’d stopped asking and just tried to pretend everything was fine, but he feels like the relationship they’ve been building for four years is starting to slip through his fingers.

The leader of SG-1 looks calm and composed now, as they prepare to step through and be escorted before the Tollan High Council, but Daniel can’t help but worry a little bit, and sort of wished the General was sending him with a diplomatic team instead. Jack wasn’t impressed with the Four Races’ reluctance to share their technology with Earth on the best of days, and most of his days lately have been a far cry from that.

Daniel is the primary negotiator for this treaty, and he’s prepared for something long and slow. The rest of SG-1 is mostly here for show; the Asgard may have insisted that Jack be the voice of the Tau’ri when they’d negotiated to add the Earth to their protected planets list with the Goa’uld, but the Tollans have no such requirements. He makes an opening volley with Chancellor Travell, pleading for a chance to be heard, and she grants it. He’s barely even gotten a chance to get started when Jack interrupts his speech, sounding typically irreverent.

Daniel’s heart sinks, and he knows his shoulders hunch in a little as Jack gets increasingly belligerent behind him. Jack yanks them out of the negotiations abruptly, and they can’t do anything but follow him. Daniel might be their spokesperson for the negotiations, but Colonel O’Neill is their commanding officer and he knows the Chancellor won’t deal with him without Jack present. He can only hope to go cool his friend’s temper and then return.

Hurrying down the hall beside Sam, Teal’c bringing up the rear, Daniel tries to stall for time. Unfortunately, Jack is in fine form today and having none of it. Daniel doesn’t want to push too hard, because the yelling Jack did on their last mission when he questioned orders is still a painful memory. But when Jack stops beside the sensor that had somehow disabled Earth and Goa’uld weapons on their last visit, he can’t not object to what he sees in Jack’s face. His ‘Don’t even think about it,’ goes completely ignored. Sam’s ‘Sir, isn’t this against regulations’ at least gets a response, but it doesn’t stop Jack from pulling the device from the wall anyway.

Daniel tries again with a desperate, “Kinda crossing the line…” but a snapped out “Shut up, Daniel,” from Jack leaves him speechless. That isn’t the friendly banter they are known for, or even an exasperated Jack trying to get his point across. This is something new. The chasm between them seems to gape a little wider, and he follows the rest of the team silently back to the Gate.

* * *

They change out of their formal clothes and back into BDUs, but the atmosphere is tense and they don’t have a chance to talk about what happened before they’re sitting down around the conference table. Daniel exchanges several long looks with Sam, sitting next to him, but Jack sitting across from them prevents any real conversation about the incident. He has no idea what possessed Jack to steal the device, but he’s slowly starting to get angry about it.

Jack’s blasé attitude when question by the general fans those flames, and the Colonel doesn’t give any explanation for what he did, leaving the General to attempt to fill in the blanks. Daniel doesn’t know what to do, so he makes a vague statement about not promising anything to the Tollans and glares across the table at Jack, giving him a chance to explain himself; but he says nothing, just looking expectantly back. Someone has to answer the General’s questions, so Daniel gives some stupid answer about the Tollan refusing to give them any technology. He can’t say anything else without incriminating Jack, so he falls silent, glaring angrily at the table so he doesn’t have to look at Jack or Hammond. At this point, he isn’t entirely sure why he’s not just spilling the whole sordid story, but every time he tries to open his mouth to rat Jack out, his heart lurches and he stops himself.

Sam is similarly speechless, but at least Jack still has the honor not to make _her_ lie for him to a superior officer. When he finally opens his mouth Jack says a lot of things, awful things, but they are silent around the table as he digs a deeper and deeper hole. When the General starts to get mad, spreading the blame across the whole team, Jack defends them, but in the most disrespectful way possible. There’s absolutely nothing any of them can think to say as their team leader seems to blow up his career around them, and Daniel can’t help but notice that Jack won’t meet his eyes.

* * *

Daniel had always been such an open book. He kept his history close to the vest, his secrets buried deep, but Jack had never had trouble reading the emotions he wears on his sleeve. It was part of what made him so good with people – their allies never doubted that Daniel Jackson was exactly as good and pure as he seemed to be. Jack _had_ been upset about Laira, for about a week after he returned from Edora. But being home with his team had reminded him what he was living for, and that had passed quickly as she faded from his memory again. It had been infatuation born of circumstances, not anything real.

The representatives of the Tollan, the Asgard, and the Nox had come the second week. They’d lain their ultimatum about the SGC having to catch the technology thieves themselves at the General’s feet, and the Asgard had insisted that they only trusted Jack to do it. He’d argued hard with the General that he be allowed to read in SG-1, but he’d lost. Hammond said the rift between Jack and his team had to play as real, and that he didn’t think SG-1 could pull off the ruse of being alienated from the commander if they didn’t believe he’d gone completely off the rails.

Jack didn’t know what it said about him that the General thought he still could convince them that he was so corrupt. His training was good, but his black ops days were long abandoned.

He had known that Sam and Teal’c would be easy to discourage, especially because Sam wouldn’t challenge his authority easily and while Teal’c might question him, he rarely even considered questioning Hammond. But Daniel…Daniel was tenacious and would take Jack’s apparent defection personally. He would remember the soldier from their first trip through the Gate, and fight tooth and nail to get his Jack back. So Jack started laying the groundwork for discouraging Daniel immediately, but with each brush-off and harsh word, he hated himself a little more. Their relationship was complicated enough as it was, Daniel’s unwavering trust hard-earned, and chipping away at that foundation was causing damage he wasn’t sure he was going to have the tools to repair.

Interrupting the pitch Daniel has worked on for months is hard – snapping at him to shut up in the hallway as he ‘steals’ the device is even harder. Daniel’s blue eyes swim with hurt and bewilderment, even while he can practically feel the disapproval steaming off of Sam and Teal’c. In the post-mission briefing, he is callous enough that he finally starts to see Daniel’s hurt and confusion turn to anger, and he hopes that it will be enough. If he can stoke his archaeologist’s temper enough to get Daniel to stay mad for a couple of days, maybe he can avoid him until it’s over.

No such luck. The general calls him to give him a heads-up that Daniel’s left the base shortly after spending a few minutes closeted with Carter and Teal’c, and reminds him that he can’t let anything slip. Jack says a few very rude things in response, but the General ignores that and hangs up. Slumped in his living room, Jack tries to get a little drunk and hopes Daniel will just go home to sulk.

The doorbell rings, and he knows of course Daniel didn’t. He blocks the door with his body, and looks out, trying to put on an air of boredom and annoyance, braced for Daniel’s furious scolding. Instead, he gets soft-and-uncertain Daniel. All of the anger that the linguist had been building with Jack over the stolen artifact is fizzled to nothing, replaced by hesitation and concern. Because Daniel thinks the best of everyone; gives second and third and hundredth chances, and he doesn’t give up on his friends. Grudgingly, not wanting to cause a scene on the street, Jack lets him in, gets him a beer, and tries to ignore the way that Daniel looking uncomfortable in his living room fuels his self-loathing.

Daniel is walking on eggshells, trying to de-escalate the conflict, and Jack has to act like an asshole. He’s under surveillance, he knows that, and he can’t be sure the house itself isn’t bugged. The kid’s big blue-eyed stare is on him like he can see into his soul, and Jack has to dig deep into his anger at whoever has been stealing from their allies and putting them in this position to maintain his cover. Daniel’s watching him like he’s some sort of puzzle, one of his dead languages, but not like he’s convinced.

Damn it. He needs Daniel to stop looking at him like that. Like every word out of Jack’s mouth is a personal attack on everything he holds dear. Even when they’d first landed on Abydos and Jack had allowed his marines to blatantly bully Doctor Daniel Jackson, with fists and words, Danny had never looked at Jack like that. So he strikes with words, deep and hard; Daniel finally stops appealing to any hope of Jack’s better nature and straight-up appeals to Jack on their friendship, his trust and his heart in his eyes, and Jack stomps on it.

A deep hurt passes over Daniel’s face, an anguish that Jack recognizes as the kind of feeling that had led him to accept a suicide mission to Abydos four years ago. The type of hurt that kills. And when he gets the urge to gather Daniel into his arms and take it all back, he takes a swig of his beer instead. Colonel Jack O’Neill of the United States Airforce has never felt smaller than at that moment. Daniel’s expression shutters and he walks out of Jack’s house without looking back, and Jack thinks that when this is over, it will be a miracle if he still has a best friend.

The day he goes through the Stargate to ‘retire’ on Edora, Daniel doesn’t come to the Gate room with the others. They haven’t spoken since he left Jack’s house. He probably thinks he’s hidden, but Jack had placed him in the shadowy corner of the control room the minute he entered. He always knows where Daniel is; he’d developed a ‘Daniel-sense’ to keep track of their archaeologist after the very first mission. He also knows exactly what is going through the other man’s mind. Daniel is assuming that after everything, Jack is choosing the woman he knew for a hundred days over everything they’ve built together. Jack has to turn away and not look back, or he wouldn’t be able to force himself to walk away. He’s going to be added to the list of people who have abandoned Daniel Jackson, and Daniel will have every reason to never trust him again.

And Daniel is the glue that holds his team together. His other teammates are good people, but the three of them are entirely too military and their choices reflect that; Daniel is the compass that steers their ship towards the right. He may be saving the relationship between Earth and its Allies, but he can’t help but fear that he’s destroying SG-1.

* * *

Daniel won’t quite look at him.

Jack is almost completely certain that his claim of ‘drawing straws’ was a lie; he knows what Daniel looks like when he’s lying. The statement was delivered with heft and timing meant to hurt, and Carter and Teal’c were careful not to actually _say_ anything to agree or contradict when they backed him up; it’s not a lie to a commanding officer if you don’t speak the words.

He goes to the locker rooms to shower off the physical and metaphorical grime of the rogue unit’s base, and when he emerges Daniel has already left the base. Jack wants to go after him, but he’s delayed by having to report to the General, as well as the Tollan, Asgard, Nox, and even the Tok’ra before he can also slip away.

The light is still on in Carter’s lab. He stops in the doorway, looking in as she putters with something the rogue unit had brought back that the Asgard hadn’t taken. She smiles at him, a little reserved but for all intents and purposes seemingly over it. “Do you need something, Sir?”

“Ah,” he hesitates, shoves his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to read you guys in. But, orders, you know?”

“Yes, Sir,” she agrees. “Teal’c and I understand.”

He works hard to contain the wince, knowing he doesn’t succeed entirely. “Did you happen to speak to our Doctor Jackson this afternoon? Know where I might find him?”

Sam slowly sets down the thingamajig she’s working on and leans forward, hands on her worktable. “He’s pretty upset. I don’t know what you said to him the day you retired, but I think he believed you. Sir.” A lot of the forgiveness is gone from her tone, and it’s as censorious as it can be without being outright insubordinate.

“God, Major, I know.” Jack wipes a hand over his face. “I can’t grovel if I can’t find him, alright? Save me some time traipsing all over Colorado Springs tonight looking for him.” Sam stares at him for a moment more and then shakes her head.

“I would tell you, Sir, but I’m not sure. He didn’t want to talk to Teal’c or me before he left either.”

* * *

When he finally finds Daniel, Jack thinks he should have known all along. He checks Daniel’s apartment first and upon coming up empty there, spends a couple of good hours driving around looking for the archeologist’s distinctive car. It’s only when he thinks to call the base and make sure that Daniel hadn’t returned that he learns that while the good doctor is not at Cheyenne Mountain, his vehicle never left. That prompts a niggling suspicion and he drives to his own house. It’s a weird habit, but Daniel seldom drives to Jack’s (why would he, when the next time he leaves it will probably be in Jack’s truck on the way back to base?).

The windows are dark, but he’s not expecting to find the kid inside. There’s a distinct bite to the air and any other time Daniel would have been found curled up inside with a coffee and whichever book he’d carelessly forgotten the last time he was over, maybe even with a welcoming fire started in the fireplace. The last time Daniel had been in the house, though, Jack had torn into their friendship without quarter, so the younger man has fled to somewhere untarnished by recent events.

He doesn’t want to go into the house first and give his quarry a chance to reconsider and slip away, so he digs in the back of the truck for the blanket he keeps there for emergencies and also finds an extra jacket. Tucking them under one arm, Jack climbs up the ladder to the roof, feeling an immense sense of relief and also a rush of affection when he spies Daniel in the second lawn chair, curled up impossibly small into his BDU jacket to ward off the cold. The figure doesn’t stir as he crosses the roof. Jack wonders if he’s fallen asleep, but when he comes around to the front of the chair to wrap the wool blanket around him, he’s pinned down by a very awake set of pale eyes.

“Hey, kid.” The corner of his mouth tilts up in the smallest of smiles, and he goes through with tucking the edges of the blanket in around Daniel even as the gaze of SG-1’s conscience dissects him expertly. When he draws back from this task, Jack shrugs into the extra jacket himself and takes the other chair, pulling it around so he faces Daniel instead of being side-by-side.

For all that Danny had done everything he could not to look at Jack’s face earlier today under the mountain, he’s staring at him now. Jack leans forward and put his elbows on his knees, holding his friend’s gaze patiently while Daniel searches for whatever he’s looking for. After what feels like an eternity, the linguist’s blue eyes break away and he looks up towards the sky. It’s a clear night, and dark out here at Jack’s in a way it never is at Daniel’s apartment, and the stars and planets above are crisp and clear. For a while, they both just look at the stars that are so far away, yet so close with the Stargate.

“You left us,” Daniel’s voice is soft, but with silence pressing around them it feels like a shout. “For _Laira_.” There’s an unusually blatant dislike in his voice for a woman who had been nothing but welcoming and kind under terrible circumstances, but Jack doesn’t think now is the time to analyze that puzzle.

“It wasn’t real. It was just the only way I could get access to the Gate. I would never have stayed on Edora.”

“Those weeks leading up to the Tollan summit….” Daniel doesn’t even finish that thought, and Jack has to close his eyes for a minute before he can respond.

“I’m sorry for almost everything I did since Edora. I didn’t mean any of it.” Words aren’t enough, but words mean a lot to Daniel.

“You should have trusted us.” And by ‘us’, they both know he means ‘me’. Jack opens his mouth but before he can form a sound, Daniel is shooting a searing look in his direction. “and _don’t_ give me the bullshit about orders that you gave Sam and Teal’c. You bend and manipulate orders to suit yourself all the time.”

“It wasn’t about trust. You know I trust you with my life.” The still deeply hurt and highly skeptical look he gets then convinces Jack he better keep trying to find the right words. “I trust you to always do the right thing. I trust you to save my life, or Teal’c’s, or Carter’s. I trust you to save the Earth. I trust you to look for a peaceful solution to every problem, and usually find one.” He has Daniel’s full attention, that much he knows, though the other man’s gaze is averted, and his chin tucked defensively. “Danny, the only thing I don’t trust you with is yourself.”

That, finally, gets a reaction. “Ja-ack,” Daniel’s head shoots up and he’s scowling, irritated. Which is a heck of a lot better than wallowing in despair.

“Daniel,” he drawls, leaning forward again to force eye contact. “I had no idea what kind of compromising positions I was going to have to put myself in. The General and I had no idea Maybourne would make it so easy for us – I was expecting months of doing, at best, very questionable things before we could nail them to the wall.” Someone, somewhere, was looking out for Colonel Jack O’Neill when they wrapped the whole thing up in a matter of days, before the sour feelings he’d left with his best friend had a chance to become permanent. “There wasn’t a chance in hell I was letting even a single speck of whatever dirt I was going to have to roll in to touch you.”

“I could have played along. I can look after myself.”

Jack can’t help it. He laughs out loud.

Daniel actually gives him a tiny, sheepish smile, but it fades quickly back to uncertainty, and Jack can almost see the self-hug he’s wrapped around himself under the blanket. “You really didn’t mean any of it?”

“No, of course not. But we had no idea what Maybourne would be able to get bugged, and there was no way they’d approach me unless they thought I’d severed all ties to the SGC and he’s had a lot of time to study us. The break with you had to be _more_ convincing than my fallout with Sam, or Teal’c, or the General.” This is what it’s going to come down to – whether, having taken it all to heart, Daniel can believe it was all Jack’s acting skills. If he chooses to go with the idea that ‘everything has a kernel of truth’, their friendship might never recover.

Inexplicably, but in a twist of fate that encompasses everything Doctor Daniel Jackson is, Jack watches guilt sweep across his friend’s face. “I should never have believed you could go rogue. God, Jack, I’m sorry. What kind of friend does that make me?”

Right then and there, Jack makes a promise to himself to figure out how to offer Daniel more affirmation on a regular basis. How he turned this into guilt instead of being mad at Jack, he will never understand. “You didn’t believe me, Daniel, trust me, you made me work for it. You were very persistent. I spent two weeks making sure I could make you believe me. This is absolutely not something you should feel guilty about.”

“So we’re…solid.”

“Yeah, we’re solid.” Jack sits back into his chair, relaxing second by second. They sit quietly for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Jack is close to dozing; it’s been a long few weeks. They should go inside, out of the cold, but the living room is still full of bad ghosts.

“Jack?”

“Hm?” There’s a scrape of something being pushed over to his chair, and he looks down at the telescope case and then up at Daniel.

“Show me Abydos?”

That’s a familiar request. Daniel can give you the entire encyclopedia article on each planet they visit, but he’s hopeless at finding them in the night sky himself, so he relies on Jack for that, and he often asks for him to find Abydos in particular.

Maybe, by some miracle, everything’s going to be ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Recaps:
> 
> S3E17 (“A Hundred Days”) – A natural disaster destroys the gate on Edora (P5C-768), which results in Jack being trapped on Edora for a hundred days, not knowing if he’ll ever be able to return to Earth. While there, he grows very close to Laira, one of the natives.
> 
> S3E18 (“Shades of Grey”) – Jack participates in a top-secret mission to determine who is stealing technology from their allies the Tollan and the Asgard. He is not allowed to tell his team about the deception, so he pushes them away and they believe that he is the thief and has been forced into an early retirement, which he claims to have taken on Edora instead of Earth. He is successful in facilitating the capture of the rogue SG team and the Nox, Tollan, and Asgard reaffirm their friendship with the Tau’ri.


	8. (Not-So-)Maternal Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which failure was possible inevitable, Jack O'Neill manages to be VERY patient, but everyone has limits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode recap in the end comments. Thank you guys so much for the kudos and comments for continued encouragement, it really does lift me up! <3 <3 <3 As far as this chapter goes, even the first watch of this episode my first watch of the show I was absolutely staggeringly amazed and how patient Jack managed to be when Danny did some very silly things. So, yeah, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before he got his butt smacked again...right? ;)

The General is giving them a completely unimpressed stare from his place at the head of the table, and Jack has to admit that when the mission is all laid out, it seems like they’d strayed quite far from their objective, especially given that Daniel had pitched the trip based entirely on the importance of the Harsesis child to their fight against the Goa’uld. He’s momentarily tempted to throw their archaeologist to the metaphorical wolf, but he’d put a lot of work today into proving to Daniel that he _can_ trust and listen to him, and he doesn’t want all that work to go to waste.

Folding his hands on the conference table in front of him, Jack offers an explanation. “Sir, we didn’t have much of a choice. Jaffa aside, we weren’t a match for the power of whatever this was.”

“And what do we know about this being?” Hammond looks over to Daniel, who shifts uneasily and taps his pen against his journal before formulating a response.

“Um, not a lot at this point Sir. Based on the writings in the temple, they are an ancient race that somehow discovered how to ascend to another plane of existence entirely.” He looks up at the General, frowning. “Whatever she was, she had a lot of power. I’d like to go back to Kheb and study the writings there some more.”

“We should hold off on that until we’re sure the planet’s not flooded with Jaffa, General,” Jack interjects. Daniel gives him a shrug.

“Oma Desala seemed to indicate that we’d be able to meet the boy again someday, sir. And in all fairness, he’s an infant. We wouldn’t have been able to learn anything from him yet anyway, and I don’t think there’s much that could cause him harm in her care.” Daniel sounds rather calm about this, but Jack had seen the reservations in his face as they trekked back to the Stargate; he hadn’t wanted to leave Sha’re’s child in someone else’s care any more than the rest of them. “But, I think these ascended beings could be very important. I think that they may be one of the missing pieces in what we know about the four races.”

“Very well. I agree with the Colonel – it’s too much of a risk to return immediately. Doctor Jackson, you’ll have to study what materials you were able to bring back with you, and we can consider returning at a later date. Dismissed.”

* * *

Jack stays behind for a time to discuss some base matters and SG-1’s upcoming mission bracket with the General, goes to the locker room to change into his civvies, and then meanders down to Daniel’s lab. His archaeologist is hunched over a notebook, writing furiously. He wanders around looking at the shelves, trying to wait patiently, but it seems to have no end, and Daniel is quite good at ignoring him. Resorting to a sure-fire way to get his friend’s attention, he picks up one of the priceless artifacts and starts turning it this way and that.

“Jack.” The stress on his name is low and exasperated.

“Daniel.” He works hard to keep the smile out of his face and his voice, but he is still so relieved to still be getting to have these moments with his best friend, it’s hard. Looking around, he finds Daniel’s eyes on him, eyebrows bunched down in a frown, but attention raised from his work.

“Put that back, it’s millions of years old, it doesn’t need to be handled.”

Obligingly, Jack sets the statuette back on the shelf and looks down at the notebook Daniel has been scribbling in instead. “It’s quittin’ time, Daniel.”

“I’m not done with this,” he runs a hand through his hair in frustration, taking off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose, a sure sign that he’s exhausted even if he isn’t ready to admit it. “I’m piecing together the language quicker now, but there’s so much of it.” Jack can see the printouts now, clearly stills of the walls; there’s a couple with notes and translations on them scattered on the desk and a thick stack on the corner closest to the computer and printer.

“It’ll keep until tomorrow.”

“ _Jack_ , this is important stuff. I don’t know why yet, but I can feel it. This is going to be big.”

“It’ll be just as big tomorrow, or next week, or next month.” Jack shoves his hands in his pockets and stands a little straighter, moving a little bit into Daniel’s space. “We’ve got places to go tomorrow, and you’re not going to stay here all night and be cranky tomorrow.”

“ _Cranky_ – Jack, I am perfectly aware of my own limitations.” Danny is scowling at him now, but he’s been successfully completely distracted from his paperwork and translations. “If anyone is _cranky_ on this team, it’s you!”

“Sweet, so I’ll see you in fifteen minutes topside at the truck. We’ll grab some chow, and then neither of us will be cranky tomorrow.”

The scowl doesn’t fade but Daniel’s eyebrows rise and then knit again, and it softens into something considering. “You’re buying dinner?”

“Yasureyoubetcha.”

“Thai?” He tilts his head a little, voice hopeful, and Jack shrugs, looking at his watch.

“If you make it ten minutes, we’ll get Thai. You take forever, I’m getting burgers.” Thai actually sounds great to Jack, but the opportunity to think he deprived Jack of a fatty meal of burgers and fries against Jack’s wishes and inspired a healthier option will put some pep into Daniel’s step. The younger man has already made a beeline for the locker room, and Jack lets himself smirk a little as he shuts off the lights, closes the door, and heads for the truck.

* * *

By sheer force of habit, they’d gotten their food to go from Daniel’s favorite Thai place, and because it was closer to Daniel’s apartment they’d retreated there instead of to Jack’s house. It’s a rarer destination, mostly because Daniel doesn’t have a guest room for Jack if they stay up late with discussions and alcohol, whereas Jack’s guest room essentially belongs to Daniel. Still, he’d bought a new couch a year ago and the ability for a 6’2” Air Force Colonel to get a decent night’s sleep may have been a big factor in his choice.

They make light chatter about SGC gossip while they’re eating, but after they’ve finished and Daniel has gotten them new beers from the kitchen, a quiet and contemplative silence falls between them.

“Jack?” he starts but falls silent to consider his words.

“Daniel?” It’s patient, just like he had been all day, even though Daniel could practically feel the tension rolling off of him at times.

Daniel blows out a sharp breath and leans forward, looking over at Jack sprawled comfortably in his corner of the couch. “I just…I want you to know that I know it wasn’t easy for you to trust me on a lot of things today, and it means a lot that you did, even when it seemed crazy.”

Jack’s hesitation over many of the things that happened today flashback in Daniel’s memory, accompanied by his dry, clipped sarcasm as they interacted with Oma Desala’s riddles and metaphors and mysteries. From the first moment when they’d entered the courtyard and Daniel had shed his weapons without even checking out the place for hidden dangers, he’d known he was on thin ice with Jack, but the colonel had followed his lead with astounding patience anyway.

“Daniel, I _do_ trust you. Someday you’ll believe it.” Jack holds up a hand to stall his objections before he can get them out, “No, Danny, don’t say anything. You have good reasons not to believe me yet. But I’m going to make it up to you in time. I know how important this whole thing was to you, and so did Carter and Teal’c. We agreed to help you find Sha’re’s child and we meant it, even if the path you had to walk was meaning-of-life stuff we couldn’t do with you.”

Daniel smiles at him, trying to make sure all of his affection and gratitude is reflected in the expression. “Thanks, Jack.” He’s about to sit back and relax when Jack leans forward, and his eyes sharpen in a way that makes Daniel’s stomach swoop.

“I was always going to do everything I could to support you on this quest. But there’s a few things we need to chat about.”  
  
His heart is thumping a little too fast in his chest, and Daniel chews on his lip a little bit, beer hanging uselessly from his fingers. Everything had ended well, so he’d kind of been hoping Jack would overlook a couple of things. No such luck, apparently. He doesn’t respond.

“First of all, since when do you disarm without someone doing a sweep for danger? No, Daniel, I don’t care how you _felt_ about the place, there could have been Jaffa behind every column!” Daniel winces a little at not even getting a word in, but Jack is already on to his next talking point, and his voice drops into a growl that Daniel knows all too well from when he royally pisses off his commanding officer. “Secondly, I don’t care _what_ point you and your friend Oma were making, I _cannot_ believe you pointed my gun at me! That thing was loaded, Daniel!”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I just knew it would get your attention,” he responds in a soft voice, looking away.

“Well you got my attention then, and you’ve got my attention now, I assure you. Third, what possessed you to disappear without telling me? We’ve talked a million times about wandering off; not to mention, I’d already told you we were leaving, and you should have been right behind me. Anything could have happened to you on the other side of that wall, we couldn’t follow you, and we would never have known where to even start looking. We’ve talked about _that_ before.”

Daniel has a sinking feeling about where this is going when Jack lays his complaints out like that. He looks up at Jack with just his eyes, keeping his face averted. “I wasn’t thinking about that,” Daniel represses the urge to wince, because that came out not entirely as he intended, and not nearly appeasing enough, and Jack’s frown deepens.

“I know, that’s the problem. You get so single-mindedly focused on something you forget about basic safety and protocol.”

A silence descends between them in which Jack studies him, and Daniel tries not to shift too obviously under his gaze. He can only take so much of the quiet. Slowly, he sets his nearly empty bottle down on the coffee table and turns towards Jack. “Are you…um…” He licks his dry lips and knows he’s flushing brightly.

“Are you okay with that?”

That’s not the answer he’s expecting. Daniel’s head jerks up and he looks back at his colonel, puzzled because this isn’t how they’ve been doing this. The first few times, he’d had to ask; but after that, Jack had simply laid out his grievances and if Daniel didn’t object, gotten on with it. Jack reads his confusion as well as he always does, looking back at him seriously.

“We’ve had a rocky couple of months. I’m not going to do this if you’re not comfortable with it, Danny. We can deal with it some other way.”

 _Oh_. He understands though he thinks possibly he’s blushing even more at the mortification of knowing he will, in fact, be agreeing to get spanked by his best friend shortly. Not for the first time, Daniel is filled with an immense affection for Jack that he doesn’t dare try to put into words, despite the obvious dread at having put them in this position again. “No, Jack, I trust you with this. Always.” He rubs his hands on his arms for a minute absently, looking for the right words. “I know you’d never take advantage of our arrangement. And it’s still the best way.”

Jack studies him for a moment more and nods once. “Then yeah, I am going to “um”.” He makes somewhat sarcastic finger quotes in the air around the word, and then finishes off his beer in one long drink, setting the bottle beside Daniel’s. “C’mere.” Even as he speaks, he’s shifting closer to the center of the couch.

Slowly, reminding himself that the guilt roiling in his gut will go away afterward, Daniel slides down the length of the couch towards him. Honestly, it’s only a foot or so, but he knows it’s important to Jack that he cooperate in some ways, for everything to stay consensual and safe. Still, his best friend always knows at what point Daniel’s courage will fail him, and when he stops moving Jack takes his arm in a firm but gentle grip and guides him to his feet only long enough to unbutton and unzip his slacks before guiding him down over his knees.

Before Daniel has a chance to try and settle, Jack has pushed his pants and his underwear down to the middle of his thighs. He squirms a little, trying to settle his weight more evenly across Jack’s knees, and the colonel responds by wrapping an arm around his waist and shifting him forward and a little bit at an angle so that the couch is supporting his upper body. Then he pauses a moment, his other hand at the small of Daniel’s back, and Daniel knows he’s waiting to see if that helped or if Daniel is going to keep moving around.

And it did help – even in this, Jack is conscientious of his security. Daniel tries to arrange his arms in some way that isn’t awful, crossing them in front of his body for now, under his head. Then he sighs, relaxing a little, and that seems to be Jack’s cue. His left arm tightens just slightly around Daniel’s body and his right hand leaves Daniel's back and lands on his butt with a loud smack and not inconsequential sting.

Normally – and god, he’s so completely chagrined that this has a ‘normal’ – Jack is pretty methodical, taking his time as if making each smack count, usually accompanied by bits of a lecture at key points. This time, he just seems to be going for speed, swat after swat falling in quick succession. The sting builds up far faster, only a few seconds in, and Daniel is already yelping and squirming, resisting the urge to kick his legs only with the strongest possible exertion of self-control.

To his shock, he finds the change in routine _extremely_ distressing. He wants to speak up, to blurt out all of the things he won’t do again, and to plead with Jack to stop, but he can’t seem to catch his breath long enough to do anything except gasp, squeak, and yelp at particularly hard smacks. Trying to resist reaching back to shield Jack’s target, he grabs Jack’s pant leg and squeezes as hard as he can, which works to distract him for about thirty seconds. It doesn’t take long for frustration to sweep over him and he gives in to the urge to kick his legs, feeling like he’s doing some sort of manic swimming routine with his combination of scissor kicks and frog-like motions, but Jack’s grip on his waist keeps him pulled firmly into the older man’s side and it doesn’t slow down his assault at all.

He manages a protesting cry of “No, J’ck, p-please!” when the colonel’s arm tightens around him, a little more weight being put into the arm across his back, knowing something is coming that he’s not going to like. Sure enough, Jack drops his fierce and rapid spanks to the lower curves of Daniel’s bottom and the tops of his thighs, and all Daniel can do is wail his wordless protest.

Without warning, the wave of guilt breaks and it’s like he’s able to surface for a breath of fresh air. With the relief comes the tears and he stops all but the most reflexive kicks, curling into Jack’s side and around his legs as he cries. Almost immediately, Jack stops, landing only a half-dozen more sharp smacks. Only half-aware of his surroundings, Daniel doesn’t attempt to move as Jack leans over and tugs off his shoes and eases his clothes back up his legs, lifting his hips with his left arm so that he can very carefully pull them over Daniel’s blazing rear.

It doesn’t take much effort for Jack to lift Daniel to his chest, turning sideways so he can lean against the arm of the couch and let his quietly sobbing archaeologist lay prone on top of him, their legs stretched out down the length of the couch. Daniel is loosely aware of Jack making quiet shh-ing sounds in his ear, but mainly he’s focused on his colonel’s hands. One is massaging his head, fingers deep in his short hair, and the other is idly stroking his back. Jack doesn’t say anything as Daniel lets the penitence leak out with the tears, leaving only calm and a lingering faint sense of having failed Sha’re in its place.

“’m sorry,” he manages after a while, when the tears have abated, and both hands still for a moment to clasp him closer.

“It’s all forgiven, Spacemonkey. Let it go.”

“What if I made the wrong call? What if Oma Desala isn’t one of the good guys?” What goes unspoken but not unheard is ‘What if I failed Sha’re?’.

“You weren’t going to be able to get that baby from that alien if she didn’t want you to, kid. It was already out of your hands.” Jack’s matter-of-fact about it, about what they had all seen, but Daniel knows some of that is an act for his benefit. They’re all used to races with superior technology, but the races that seem to have _powers_ beyond human ability are more disconcerting, like the Nox and this new ancient species. “But regardless, I think it was the right call. That was your gut feeling from what you were able to read and translate, and your gut feelings are usually good, Danny.”

He sighs out acceptance of this, going limp again in Jack’s grasp, and hums a little in contentment when Jack resumes his back-stroking and head-scratching. Daniel happens to catch sight of the clock across the room and can’t help but admire Jack’s efficiency today; it’s not even been half an hour since they sat down, and he is aware that he’s calmed and settled far quicker than usual, the tears already long dried. His butt is still stinging and burning and he’s not in any hurry to sit on it, but even that is less than usual. Jack had made his point quite clearly and cleansed Daniel’s guilt, all while keeping in mind that they were both exhausted and had to go off-world the next day, and managed to have them settled on the couch to relax in what feels like record time.

“It might be a nightmare night,” Daniel admits very quietly, shivering just a little. He still has dreams – more so and more often night terrors – about Sha’re’s death, and the loss of Shifu will most certainly be a trigger. Jack’s hand stops stroking to pull an afghan off the back of the couch to settle over them.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He shifts a little under Daniel and gropes for the remote for the TV that had gotten installed about the time the new coach had been purchased, switching it on to some hockey game and lowering the volume to just loud enough to hear the colorful commentary, and Daniel knows his sleep will be safe tonight or at least, his best friend will be here to pull him out of the worst of the dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Recap
> 
> S3E20 (“Maternal Instincts”) – SG-1 and Bra’tac go to Kheb, looking for the Harsesis, trying to find him before Apophis. In the temple they find a monk, who answers all of their questions in riddles but offers to guide Daniel to unlock (supposedly) high powers like pyrokinesis and telekinesis and the teachings of a being called Oma Desala. The others are uneasy and want to leave before Apophis finds them but Daniel convinces them to stay, which ends up getting them cornered in the Temple by a group of Jaffa even as Oma Desala reveals herself and the Harsesis to Daniel. He realizes he doesn’t have any powers and that the being was trying to communicate with him in time to rush out and convince his team to put down their weapons as the Jaffa attack; Oma Desala destroys all of the Jaffa and the ships that brought them. They allow the being to take the Harsesis child because Daniel believes she can keep him safer than they can.


	9. The Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack has to practice his kind of crappy apologizing skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys just don't have great experiences with people&planets named with "E"s...Edora, Euronda, and we all know what happens when they are trying to help the Enkarans later..... D:
> 
> Anyway have a little bit of angstyness. Episode recap in the end notes.

Jack shrugs into his leather jacket and glances down at the nearly full bag of dirty BDUs hanging inside his locker, making a mental note that this weekend he better take his laundry home. Shrugging off that task for tonight, he shuts the locker door and glances over to where Daniel is sitting on a bench, his back to Jack, and to Teal’c who is beside Jack lacing up his boots.

Turning, he reaches into Teal’c locker and produces one of the Jaffa’s hats that he uses to hide his tattoo off-base, holding the dark beanie out to Teal’c as he looks up at Jack. “Dinner, T? I’m thinking the Mexican place by Carter’s house.”  
  
“That form of sustenance sounds most appealing, O’Neill.” He stands up and accepts the hat, flicking a long look towards Daniel. “I shall go and invite MajorCarter, as well.” It had been Sam’s turn for first chance at the showers this go around, and Jack knows she’s probably already retreated to her lab, since Sam and Daniel are nothing if not workaholics. Before he can say anything to stall the Jaffa, Teal’c has already given him a meaningful look and slipped out of the room, leaving Jack alone with Daniel. Jack is well aware that Teal’c is disapproving of the way he’d handled Daniel on Euronda, and he clearly expects him to make up for it immediately.

Oy. His head is already pounding just at the mere thought of this conversation.

The archaeologist’s shoulders are stiff, and his movements less than fluid as he slowly puts on his shoes. It’s clear he’s been done dressing, but he’s stalling for time to avoid turning around and joining them. “Daniel, you ready?”

“I’ve got a lot of stuff to catch up on. I’ll just grab something from the Commissary.” Jack has to suppress the urge to wince, shoving his hands into his pockets out of habit. That right there is patented Daniel Jackson avoidance, and he’s uncomfortably aware it’s because he was an ass a mere few hours ago. The best course of action is to leave their linguist to cool off on his own, revisit the issue later, but for the sake of team harmony, he knows he should at least make an effort to get Daniel to dinner.

“I know there’s nothing urgent on your desk, kid. Come grab some chow with us, and then you can be Teal’s ride back to base and log a couple more hours on whatever you’re doing.” He tries the cajoling, friendly tone, flashing a smile that quickly fades when Daniel whips his head around, frown deeply creasing the space between his eyebrows.  
  
“No, thanks, Jack.” A moment’s pause, and then he continues in the snarkiest tone Jack thinks he can muster, “Or is that too subtle for you?”

Its Jack’s own words thrown back in his face, and he has to fight down the flare of anger, accompanied by an urge to retaliate. It wouldn’t help, and as much as it kills him to admit even to himself, Jack knows he was absolutely in the wrong here. Not, necessarily, in sentiment because it was out of line for Daniel to continually undermine the negotiations, but the way Jack had cut him down hadn’t been fair either. Jack can see, in hindsight, that he should have stopped and listened to Daniel’s concerns.

He knew that in the moment, actually, but he just wanted those damn weapons _so_ badly to get the suits off their backs, and it was easier to take his frustration out on Daniel than to stop and get the answers that would put a wrench in the process.

Oh yeah, Jack knows he was wrong, but Daniel’s not ready to hear it and Jack’s not ready to grovel. His friend has faced away from him again, slamming his locker shut, and he is once again gazing at the other man’s uncommunicative back. “Make sure you get something to eat before you get all caught up in your…stuff.” He gets a jerky nod, which is better than nothing, so he turns and leaves.

* * *

Dinner is a good, relaxing, even though Jack catches himself several times wanting to turn and say something to Daniel, who should be sitting beside him. He tries to hide it, but each time it happens he catches Teal’c giving him an unimpressed look. A couple of times, it even looks like Sam is suppressing the same urge. In the end, everything is just a little off-kilter.

Thinking about their teammate’s tendency to starve himself when he’s working, and his even more frustrating habit of not eating when he’s upset, Jack buys Daniel’s regular order to go as the evening winds down and offers to be Teal’c’s ride back to the base. It’s been at least an hour, probably two, by the time they get back. Jack doesn’t really want to leave this dangling over their heads overnight, so he knows he’s going to have to go back and face his very unhappy best friend.

As he pulls into the base lot and finds a parking spot near the doors, Teal’c turns towards him across the truck cab. They’d talked on the drive, but about totally innocuous things, and he’d at least gotten a little more warmth out of the Jaffa after he’d ordered food for Daniel. “Would you like me to deliver DanielJackson’s meal to him, O’Neill?”

“Nah, I’ll do it.” Jack turns the key in the ignition to ‘off’ and gathers up the to-go box and drink. Before he climbs out he glances around, partially hoping that Daniel changed his mind and headed home. Alas, it doesn’t take long for him to spot the orangey-red jeep parked in its usual spot near the edge of the lot, so Jack steels himself to go beard the dragon in his lair. Teal’c has gotten out of the truck, but he hasn’t walked away, and he’s looking at Jack rather intently across the roof.

“Most often, you welcome DanielJackson’s insights into the peoples we deal with in our travels. Why, on this occasion, did you dismiss his concerns?”

“We need that kind of technology to defeat Anubis, and the rest of the snake-heads.” Jack grinds out, feeling defensive. “Sometimes we aren’t going to be able to take the moral high ground, or we’re not going to be ready.”

“I believe that DanielJackson would argue that the moral high ground is the only way to defeat the Goa’uld.”

He’s not wrong. The biggest kicker is that most days, Jack believes that too, at least to an extent. That doesn’t mean there aren’t times when he wishes SG-1 didn’t travel with its own living, breathing, speaking moral compass. “Jeez, T, I know that. I already apologized to Daniel.” He’s whining now, and he knows it. A single dark eyebrow goes up, and Jack exhales hard. “I know I hurt his feelings. I’m going to talk to him.”

“I believe that would be wise, O’Neill. I do not think SG-1 operates at its best when you two are at odds.”

Feeling it a heroic effort, he manages not to roll his eyes until Teal’c turns away to lead the way back underground. Teal’c breaks off at the base quarters with an intent to go kelno’reem, and Jack stays in the elevator as it descends to Level 18. He seriously doubts that Daniel has gone to bed, just as he seriously doubts that he’d bothered to go get dinner. That at least he gets right – maybe the first thing today, when it comes to Daniel. There’s a dim glow emanating into the hallway from Daniel’s mostly-closed laboratory door, which he shoulders open and strides in.

The tousled head bent over some thick and dusty tome jerks up, and Daniel blinks at him, face momentarily open and perplexed. A second later it starts to close off, so Jack forges ahead by holding up his peace offering. “I brought you dinner.”

“I-“  
  
“Ah!” Jack interrupts him and holds up a finger. “If you’re about to say either ‘I’m not hungry’ or ‘I already ate’, why don’t you save us both the trouble, huh? Take a break and come to eat something.” He turns to the low couch and sets the food down, choosing a seat at the other end of the couch for himself. Across the room he can hear Daniel heave a heavy sigh and move a few things around his desk before padding quietly over, his body betraying him with an astonishingly loud stomach rumble as he’s lowering himself at the other end of the couch.

Jack waits patiently, leaning back against the arm of the couch so he can at least partially face his friend, as Daniel opens the takeout box and surveys its contents. Silently and slowly he unwraps the plastic silverware, but Jack’s quiet is rewarded when he looks up from under his brows with the tiniest quirk of his lips towards a smile, accompanied by a murmured “Thanks.”

Strategically, Jack chooses to keep waiting until Daniel’s started to eat and his mouth is full before he dives in. “I _am_ sorry. I should have made time to listen to your concerns, and I definitely didn’t need to act like a jerk. Those people were no good, and your spidey senses knew it.”

Daniel pauses, lowering his fork back into the styrofoam container. His shoulders are still up around his ears, his posture defensive. They’ve gotten out of ‘pissed at Jack’ mode and are floundering somewhere in ‘hurt feelings’ land, which is one of Jack’s least favorite places to be. He can snipe back at angry Daniel with the best of them (there’s a reason their intense but usually brief spats are SGC legend), but hurting Daniel’s feelings always makes him feel like a complete heel. He’s very aware it wasn’t the actual arguing over morals that landed them in this sinking sand; it was sending him away with Sam without listening to what he had to say and his callous ( _‘Shut up, Daniel.’_ ) that earned him this fun discussion.

“Why did you?” Daniel doesn’t look up when he asks.

Since he knew the question was coming, a less emotionally constipated colonel would have already had an answer prepared, but Jack was ever hopeful that the offering of food and coming back to make sure his archaeologist got some sleep would do the talking for him. Sometimes, gestures of apology work on Daniel and he doesn’t have to use words.

Then again, sometimes, Colonel Jack O’Neill manages to pull himself up short before he tears down his best friend in front of their team and an entire foreign government.

Other times, he’s a grade 1 asshole.

“I don’t have a good excuse.”

“But you probably have a reason.” Finally, for the first time in more hours than he cares to count, his favorite pair of blue eyes lifts to meet Jack’s with something other than hurt or anger in them. Those things are there, too, but there’s also the openness that lets Daniel relate to anyone, even stupid, short-sighted, stubborn air force colonels.

“I just really wanted their technology to be the real thing. It would have gotten the pencil pushers off of our backs for a while, and you and I both know we’re not ready to face Apophis or any other big bad who’s lurking out there.” Jack scrubs a hand over his face. “I was mad that you were derailing negotiations and undermining my authority in front of Alar.” He doesn’t miss when Daniel’s eyebrows drop and knit together, his fingers tightening on the fork handle. “I know I mishandled that too. I should have made sure we had time to talk as a team before agreeing to anything, and I should have given you time to get answers to your questions.”

Daniel doesn’t have to ask the question that hangs heavy in the silence between them – why didn’t you? “I think it was the knowledge that their defenses were failing. I was thinking like we were in a combat situation, not a diplomatic situation.”

The archaeologist nods a little and takes another bite, which is an excellent sign. Jack powers onward. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again. But I can promise to try harder.”

This time when Daniel glances up at him, there’s calm acceptance looking back at him. “Okay, Jack.”

“So, forgive me?”

“Always.” Daniel tilts his head once again on the word, aiming a lopsided and sweet smile at him that Jack was _absolutely_ not expecting to see tonight. Jack usually has to work pretty hard to earn those full-on smiles, and he treasures them for everything they mean and the things they can’t look at too closely. It takes his breath away a little; he could drown in those eyes when Daniel aims them at him full-force. The number of people who have looked at him with that much trust he can probably count on one hand – Sara once upon a time, Charlie, Skaara, Cassie. Doctor Daniel Jackson. He really needs to stop messing up, or Daniel won’t look at him like that anymore, and that might actually kill him.

“Sweet.” When his heart starts beating regularly again, he leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees, summoning his very best earnest expression. “Do you think you might be able to let Teal’c know? I got the feeling all through dinner he was plotting my untimely demise on the next mission.”

Daniel just laughs, digging into his late supper; and well aware of the cameras even here in the labs, Jack has to pretend to scowl at him when all he really wants to do is gather him up into a hug and never let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S4E2 (“The Other Side”) – SG-1 goes to Euronda, a planet locked in a generations-long civil war, when one side contacts them through the Stargate to ask for assistance. They are tasked with providing support (food, medical supplies, etc.) while seeing if they can trade for advanced technology. Daniel is suspicious of their motives right away but Jack, seemingly tempted by the advanced technology offered, ignores his suspicions. Jack clues in to something wrong when he the Eurondan leader tells him not to bring Teal’c back to the planet – they start to look into what is really happening and discover that the Eurondans they are helping are trying to kill everyone else on their planet for not being ‘genetically pure enough’; Jack and Teal’c help the enemy bombers reach the underground base and then they return to Earth.


	10. Scorched Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack and Daniel have a heart-to-heart about their feelings, and they Discuss how Jack feels about Danny's choices in Scorched Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ranges over quite a few episodes, but I’ve tried not to make it too confusing? Episode summaries (at least the relevant bits) for the five episodes I’m referring to are in the end notes. Let’s just say I’ve always thought season 4 was a tough year of ups and downs for our boys. Also, I’m gonna start talking feelings here and maybe even kissing (*gasp*) so if sliding into Jack/Daniel as a potential relationship beyond good friends is going to offend you, this may be your exit. :’(

g“No.”

The word falls flat between them. Any other time, it would have stopped Jack in his tracks – he might have even been relieved. This time, he’s not so sure. For one, because he can _see_ the guilt and other feelings darkening those ordinarily bright blue eyes, and the whole reason this is a thing is because Daniel sucks at dealing with those feelings himself. The second reason is a little more selfish – he’s mostly calm now, calm enough to be having this conversation anyway, but Jack is still absolutely furious and a little bit in disbelief, and he fully intends to make sure his wayward archeologist doesn’t ever even consider doing something like this again.

“No?” he repeats incredulously, leaning in towards Daniel just a little, wishing that the younger man was ever intimidated by his body language the way other people are. A little healthy intimidation can be good for the soul. “Daniel, you got yourself beamed up to a spaceship you knew damn well we were about to blow to smithereens.” Jack’s gut clenches in residual fear and fury just thinking about it. “If there has _ever_ been a time you needed your ass kicked, it’s today.”

Daniel looks away, arms crossed defensively over his chest, choosing to study the carpet instead of Jack’s face. He’s been running from Jack for hours, choosing increasingly desperate hiding places until Jack ran him to ground in his own base quarters – clearly, he hadn’t thought that Jack would dare come in here because he hadn’t even bothered to lock the door (though Jack had paused to lock it behind himself when he walked in, startling Danny into leaping up off his bed). In most situations, he would have gone home and waited for Daniel’s guilt to drive him to Jack’s doorstep. However, this time Jack isn’t willing to let this fester overnight, even if their 0700 debrief with the General is a mere six short hours away at this point.

“You told me to give you another choice. I did,” comes the sullen response, and Jack would have sworn on his officer commission at this moment that he can feel his blood start to boil. 

He takes a step towards the younger man, who takes a couple of steps away around the end of the bed, watching Jack warily out of the corner of his averted gaze.

“Some freakin’ choice, between blowing up my best friend or losing thousands of civilians we were responsible for.” Daniel opens his mouth, and Jack pulls his hands out of his pockets to make a sharp motion for silence, scrutinizing his archaeologist to see if he can figure out what’s going on in Danny’s head. “I don’t want to hear any excuses neither of us believes. Tell me why this is different from the hundred other times you’ve put yourself in danger and why you think I’m not spanking you for it.”

If the kid’s face gets any redder, he might well turn into a fruit like that girl from Willy Wonka who turned into a blueberry. While Jack is watching, his arms slide down to his side and he clenches and unclenches his fists, slowly building up to some sort of response.

“Don’t act like you care all that much, Jack! This thing worked because I made some assumptions about how you felt about me. But you know what they say about assumptions, and I’ve been corrected, so I won’t make that mistake again!” Jack was expecting some sort of stammered excuse – when Daniel basically comes up swinging instead, lashing out in rage, he physically has to lean away while he tries to comprehend this outburst. Daniel wildly rushes at him and Jack dodges, thinking he’s going to actually take a swing, but he recovers fast when he realizes that it was Daniel making a try for the door.

He thanks the powers that be that he’d locked them in, because it gives him the seconds of advantage he needs while Daniel struggles against the heavy door without unlocking it to lunge forward and grab his arm, swinging him away from the exit and giving him just a little shake. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

“You don’t have to keep acting like you want to deal with my issues. I’m an adult, I can take a hint. I thought we could work together anyway, but I can see now that I’m just in the way.” Danny’s temper has always burned hot and fast, and he’s already pulling back from it, shivering a little and looking lost and small instead of livid. “I’ll transfer to another team and get out of your hair. Just…leave me alone!” He tries again to duck under Jack’s arm and escape, but now that Jack’s onto him there’s not a chance of that happening. He might be steadily gaining muscle and technique under the rest of SG-1’s relentless instruction, but he still has nothing on Jack’s special ops training.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He can feel the disapproval of his dentist as he grinds the words out, teeth clenched. He puts both hands on Daniel’s shoulders to manhandle him backward and then shove him down onto his bed. “Sit. Neither of us is going anywhere until you explain…all of that.” He finds himself waving a hand expansively and grabs a chair from the small table in the corner, spinning it around and straddling it, so close to the edge of the bed that the linguist can’t move without Jack gabbing him.

“Jack.”

“Daniel.” Jack responds, simply raising a single eyebrow a lá Teal’c. When Daniel plays dumb, tilting his head just a little, he expands on the topic with a growled, “Explain.”

For his trouble, he gets the fiercest glare Daniel Jackson can manage, but it’s wasted on Jack. It’s better to wait this out – Daniel will get tired of the standoff well before Jack will. This is a familiar dance, after all, and Jack has played both sides to his advantage. When he’s willing to be talked around, he can throw an opening salvo, and then stand back and let the younger man talk in circles until Jack feigns giving in. When he’s going to stand his ground, it’s better to wait for Danny to start filling the silence. When he truly babbles, he often says the things he doesn’t mean to say.

“Like I said, I made some assumptions. Don’t worry, even I have to take a hint eventually.” Jack might believe the dry and dismissive tone Daniel’s using if he wasn’t glaring into the deep, unguarded hurt in Daniel’s eyes. “I don’t know why you played along for so long, but you don’t have to anymore. You won’t have to find any more ways to try and make me understand, and I’ll ask Hammond to assign me to another team since it’s clearly affecting our working relationship too.”

It’s quite obvious that Daniel thinks that made perfect sense, but Jack feels kind of like he did when he had the ancient database in his head; sort of like he’s looking through a window and trying to see what’s on the other side, but now the glass is frosted and everything is indecipherable shapes. He rubs a hand across his face, the frustration settling low in his gut. Something is seriously wrong here, and he has no idea what it is or even where to start. “I’m going to need the dumb colonel version, Daniel, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The look he receives is one of near contempt, and a little bit of something else, like he’s forcing Daniel to explain himself just to be cruel. “I thought we were friends,” Daniel mutters like that explains a single damn thing.

“Funny,” Jack says in a tone that spells out the polar opposite, and he can’t help the little bit of bite that creeps into his voice, though he chokes it down to a minimum. “Me too. When did we stop being friends, exactly?”

“Friends as in…more than…” The blush is back, full power, and he has to lean in to catch the rest of the mumbled words. “As in…nobody’s asking….we’re not telling…but I was in the observation room when…Anise….with Sam…” Jack gets a sudden, bat-symbol-in-the-sky size clue, but Daniel’s still muttering. He’s not sure SG-1’s silver-tongued linguist has ever been this incoherent, and he needs every one of five years of working side by side to translate. It doesn’t help that Jack’s only catching every few words even straining to hear, but it’s enough to start to understand what is going on here. “And team night…Teal’c said….time loop…kissed Sam.”

Jack remembers both of these events in vivid detail and allows them to replay in his head now to see if he’d fucked up that badly, or if it’s Daniel who has gone ‘round the twist.

Pushing through the memories of self-doubt and recrimination he still feels for allowing his team to be exposed to possible Zatarc programming, he clearly remembers Sam coming to him right before he allowed himself to be subjected to Anise’s potentially lethal mental reprogramming and insisting that if he was more truthful about his _feelings_ , the machine would stop indicating that they were compromised. What words had he used, exactly? _“Because I care about her. A lot more than I’m supposed to.”_ Ah.

Okay, so he assigns equal blame to both parties for this one. It had sounded…well, it had sounded a little bit like a romantic attachment, but for cryin’ out loud, Daniel should know better. Jack cares about all of SG-1 more than he’s ‘supposed to’, and those feelings are returned; the team is like a family, and he has been known to bend or break the rules for all of them.

Now, the time loop…that’s a different story, and the memories are still a little raw. Jack is still ashamed of how many times he let Danny get bowled over by the SF in the hallway, and guilty that he never remembered what question his friend had asked at breakfast that Jack couldn’t answer because he hadn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention. After Daniel himself had suggested somewhere near the beginning that they “ _could do anything for as long as you want without having to worry about the consequences_ ”, well he and T had gone a little crazy.

Yes, in one loop Jack had resigned his commission and kissed Sam in front of the entire control room. What Teal’c had apparently failed to mention when he retold the charming little scene for Daniel (and when had he done that, anyway?! Jack must have been in the bathroom or at the grill, and where had Sam been? If Teal’c had told her, he’s sure she would have punched him by now) was that Teal’c had dared him to do it in revenge after Jack had resorted to a dare challenge to get the Jaffa onto a bicycle.

What even Teal’c doesn’t know about are the innumerable loops where Jack had gone back to Daniel’s office, disabled the security cameras, and kissed a certain infuriating anthropologist instead. He had never intended for Daniel to know about that – no matter how enthusiastic a response he’d gotten, Jack had never let those interactions get beyond kissing and maybe a little cuddling; he hadn’t had the self-control to stay away, but each time he felt like he was violating their relationship a little more.

So, that one’s on him. He never should have kissed either of them and as much as he doesn’t want to, he can see where Daniel has drawn the conclusions he has with the information available to him.

Jack scrubs his hands over his face and wants to kick himself – because he knows where the rest of Daniel’s nonsense had come from too. After the time loops, after he’d allowed himself to go back to Danny again and again, reality had felt like a bucket of ice water. Every time Danny turned to him with trust in his gaze on a mission, or his eyes lit up with some discovery, or Jack sauntered into his office and he was bent over some text or tomb with ink staining his fingers, Jack wanted something he knew he couldn’t have.

Like the emotionless ape Daniel sometimes accuses him of being, Jack had convinced himself that Daniel wouldn’t notice when he subtly pulled back from their friendship to try and get himself under control. Groaning internally, he remembers some of those instances and has to admit that Daniel was very, very aware of Jack retreating. And of course he was – Daniel is pretty used to be abandoned at this point in his life, and all of his relationships are with other Stargate personnel, but none so close as his friendships with Jack, Sam, and Teal’c. He was an utter moron for thinking he could pull away from this friendship without Danny noticing.

And getting hurt.

There’d been a definite spark of illicit warmth when they’d had to jump out of the plane to go fix the Russian mess, and an uncertain Danny had looked back at him for reassurance. Jack’d basically shoved Teal’c out of the airplane because the Jaffa was balking on principle, but he knew Daniel was afraid of heights. His hesitation had been real and laced with true fear. But he trusted Jack enough that all it took was a look, one into which Jack put his best _I would never let you do this if it wasn’t 100% safe_ , and Dr. Jackson had stepped off the metal floor and out into freefall.

How had Jack repaid that trust? By doing everything he could to avoid Daniel in that Russian base, up to and including sticking him into an untested submarine and letting him float off into enemy territory with a Russian woman whose entire team was already dead. If the water hadn’t wanted to give them back in exchange for its missing particles, in what he’d sarcastically dubbed a ‘prisoner exchange’ in part to hide his overwhelming relief, Daniel and Sam would both have been dead. And then going off on his own for their entire two days of time off after that, to avoid both of them.

Almost immediately following that, he’d ceded Daniel to SG-11 for the excavation of P3X-888. Jack hadn’t even put up a token protest, where usually he would have fought tooth and nail against Daniel going out with a different team, no matter how important Daniel said the discoveries would be for the world. At the time, it had seemed like a relief – a few weeks to get his head on straight, letting Daniel play in the Goa’uld-homeworld sandbox while Jack figured out how not to act like a hormonal lovestruck teenager around him every day.

Then Rothman had come tumbling down the ramp and Jack’s world had come crashing down again. He called himself every nasty name in the book (and some he’d picked up in other languages from Danny) for thinking another team could protect Daniel; _Daniel_ whom the universe is immovably set against. With each mile, they trudged across the alien landscape he’d made promises to himself that he’d stop pushing Daniel away when they got him back. They couldn’t have anything else – he was quite sure at the time that Daniel didn’t _want_ anything else – but he could keep himself in check and keep his best friend safe and happy on SG-1.

Jack thought that was the end of it all. He should have known better when Danny went off on his own to lick his wounds and grieve Rothman, instead of coming to Jack. Rothman might have been a major geek and a pain in the ass, but he was one of Daniel’s few friends from before the Stargate program, and still quite devoted to his mentor. Jack could never have made a different decision, but he regrets that it had to have been him who shot Rothman – just like Daniel had not held Sha’re’s death against Teal’c, he wouldn’t hold Rothman’s against Jack…but that doesn’t mean it hadn’t killed a bit of his soul. If he’d had any idea what Daniel was still thinking and feeling, he would not have let him out of arms reach once he realized that it was going to be a decision between shooting down the Gadmere ship and allowing it to kill all of the Enkarans.

 _Not_ that it excuses even a little bit of Daniel’s total disregard for his own life…but.

But.

“Oy.” Jack blinks against his sudden and piercing headache, and shakes himself out of memories and back to the present. Daniel hasn’t moved, trapped by Jack’s position, but he’s leaning away almost imperceptibly, arms wrapped around himself in that tell-tale self-hugging position, head down. Well, the easiest issue to deal with first is the misunderstanding around Sam.

“Danny, Sam is like my little sister. We are closer than the Air Force regs really allow for, because I’m her commanding officer, but I’m not attracted to her like that. And I kissed her in the time loop because Teal’c dared me to. We did a lot of stupid stuff in those three months.”

A glance is thrown up at him, but it slides away as fast as quicksilver slides through your fingers, and Daniel says nothing. He’s always at his quietest when it matters the most. If Jack hadn’t been so self-absorbed in his supposedly unrequited feelings, he would have caught this sooner, just by virtue of long practice in Daniel-watching.

He doesn’t have the words he needs to explain the rest. Everything that comes to mind sounds trite, fabricated to smooth this over but insincere. Jack needs Daniel to believe him and to believe him wholeheartedly. He needs to undo several months of damage to their relationship, and fast.

An idea comes to him, and he hesitates a moment. If the base quarters are secretly bugged in some security measure that goes over even his head, they’re screwed. Oh, to hell with it; let NID or the white house goons try to hold this up against how many times they’ve saved the world, Jack will sit back and laugh.

Moving slowly, taking his time because this matters more than anything he’s done since Charlie died, he reaches out and puts a hand under Daniel’s chin, turning his face up to force him to meet his eyes, and then he smiles, trying to put all of his feelings into it. “I kissed Sam in the time loop because T dared me to. With you, it was because I couldn’t help myself. After the first time, I couldn’t bear not to.”

“J-jack?”

He finally has Daniel’s full attention, wide blue eyes filled with questions locked on his. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been a bad friend since Euronda. That’s when I realized you were more than my best friend, but I’ve been trying to keep it from affecting us. I didn’t think _you_ were interested, and even if you were, I wasn’t willing to risk either of our jobs for it.”

“Jack.”

“Well you have to admit your track record doesn’t lend itself to thinking men were your jam, Danny. Sha’re, Shyla, Ke’ra….”

Daniel frowns at him a little, his eyebrows drawing down tightly.  
  
“I know, that was an assumption on my part. They’re not exclusively your department.”

“You’ve been…” Daniel bits his lip, something shadowed across his gaze, and all of the pain of how distant Jack has been is written there for Jack to read. Jack takes that barb directly to the heart and accepts it.

“I felt like an out of control 15-year-old half the time, and pulling away was my solution. I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you.” Something calm is coming over Daniel, his body relaxing by minute increments. Jack goes quiet and waits to see where Daniel’ll take them from here. He might be willing to grovel, at this point, but there’s the unfinished sense that something is still on Daniel’s mind, and he wants to hear it.

“Jack?”

“Daniel?”

“Kiss me again?”

Well, that’s an offer he can’t refuse. If they’re being watched, he’s already incriminated himself, but he’s fairly sure the permanent base quarters are not under surveillance on the inside. “Yeahsureyoubetcha.” The catchphrase earns him a glimmer of a laugh, though brief. Moving slowly so as not to spook either of them, Jack raises his hand again to lift Daniel’s chin again and then leans forward, capturing his lips in a warm, unhurried promise of more to come. He ends the kiss and draws back before it can turn into anything more, giving Daniel a slow and lazy smile.

“Wow.” The younger man looks a little dazed, swaying where he’s sitting, and damn if that doesn’t make Jack a little smug. Maybe he can feel a little less guilty about all the time-loop practice he got if he can put that expression on Daniel’s face. Still, as Danny leans in towards him again, hands grabbing, Jack summons up all of his self-control and gently pushes him back onto the bed.

“We should take this slow. And we should _definitely_ take it off-base. There’s a million reasons it’s a terrible idea –“

“Jack!”

“Ahht, no, listen to me. There _are_ a million reasons it’s a terrible idea, so if we’re going to do it anyway, we can’t be stupid about it.”

“Um, good point.” Daniel licks his lips, slowly, as if he can taste Jack there, and looks quite content for a moment. Jack allows himself to relax as well, slumping down a little over his arms which he crosses across the back of the chair.

Daniel is the first to remember why they are here in the first place – Jack knows the moment he does though because his pliant body stiffens; where he was unconsciously curled towards Jack, he straightens and bites his lip again, shooting Jack a few furtive looks through his eyelashes that Jack fields with a quiet, questioning stare back. What is Daniel thinking of now?

“You know, I really _was_ just following your order…”

Oh. That.

It has less bite after this emotional interlude, but the anger sweeps through him anyway, and Jack scowls at Daniel as the entire Enkaran debacle is pulled back to the front and center of the room.

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the very best plan-“  
  
“Ya THINK?” Jack’s voice rises of its own accord, and he stands up and shoves the chair back over towards the table, out of his reach as he considers the very real possibility that he might start to pace. Or strangle his best friend. “WHAT was going on in your head, Daniel?”

“Ja-ack!” The archeologist’s voice starts to rise in clear and impassioned self-defense as if there is some explanation that will make Jack accept this was a good idea. “I thought I could talk him into finding a new solution. I wasn’t in any danger from him!”

“Yeah until we set the bomb and you were still on the damn ship! Five seconds, Danny-boy, that was the countdown I was on when your little pal managed to vent the naquadah bomb. _I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO WATCH YOU BLOW UP._ ” He loses the battle for volume at the end, shouting at Daniel and then pausing, taking a deep breath and a moment to be thankful these rooms are soundproofed. “It was stupid, impulsive, and manipulative. You thought since you weren’t getting your way, you could make me listen your way. What if the bomb had already been armed, Daniel? What if it went off while he was transporting it? What if he _wouldn_ ’ _t_ transport you back planet-side because of the bomb? What if Sam’s calculations were wrong and it went off early and took you and the ship with it?”

Daniel’s squirming under his snarl, but Jack decides he can’t afford to sugarcoat this. This is increasingly looking less like a case of “Daniel knows what he’s doing and it’s better” and more of a “Jack hurt me so I’m going to lash out for the last word” sort of mission mishap, and at some point, Daniel Jackson is going to run out of lives. Jack watches him sit miserably for a minute before crouching down so they’re at eye level once more.

“I think you need a spanking. And if ever there was a time, I think you’ve more than earned a spanking, because being upset with me is not even halfway a good reason for risking your own life. I don’t appreciate the manipulation either.” What he doesn’t have to say as he waits for a response is that it doesn’t matter what he thinks, if Daniel still says no he’s not going to force this issue right now. If he eroded the trust between them beyond this being something Daniel is comfortable with, they’ll come up with some other way to lift the weight on his tender soul.

Just as Jack’s knees start to seriously object to his crouching position, Daniel seems to surface from some very far-away thoughts and oh so slowly, but with almost no hesitation, he nods. 

“Okay.” Jack stands, his knees cracking in protest, and glances around. Deciding almost immediately that the chairs are too flimsy for this, he reaches down and lifts Daniel to his feet, smoothly changing their positions and taking the archeologist’s spot on the edge of the bed. Daniel is still wearing his BDU pants and black t-shirt– apparently, the likelihood of being cornered by Jack had been too high to go into the locker room and change – but he shed his jacket and boots by the door. Nimbly, Jack unbuckles the webbed belt and unfastens Daniel’s pants, swatting his hands out of the way when he tries to interfere.

“Wait!” Daniel squeaks the word, grabbing Jack’s wrists before he can tug the clothing down and out of his way.

Jack pauses, looking up at him, brows raised in polite question. He’s pretty committed to giving this spanking at this point and meaning it, but perhaps Daniel has changed his mind.

“You can’t…this…not here, Jack!”

Not an objection to the punishment then, but to the location. Jack snorts, twisting both hands to free his wrists and yanking pants and underwear down to Daniel’s knees before maneuvering him over his left knee despite continued hurried protests. “Yes, here, Daniel. We could have been doing this at home, but you spent six hours hiding from me instead of facing up to it. It’s two in the morning for crying out loud, and we’re getting this over with and getting some sleep before our briefing with Hammond.”

It feels a little different than all of their discussions on Jack’s couch. Daniel’s upper body is stretched out behind him, rather than just on the couch beside him, and he’s just across Jack’s left knee and not his right. He’s still squirming in Jack’s grip, trying to convince him to wait, but Jack plays deaf and just manhandles him until he’s happy with their situation. He takes advantage of having a leg free and moves it to trap Daniel’s legs, using that and an arm wrapped around his middle to mostly immobilize him, and then lets his hand start falling in crisp, measured strokes that echo a little in the small room.

Daniel is usually quiet for the first couple of minutes, but tonight Jack is spanking with a purpose behind each swat, a little harder than usual, and the boy over his knee is quickly gasping and making small noises of protest with every swat.

Around the fourth or fifth circuit of Jack covering his entire target in layers of heat, Daniel’s bottom is flushed a bright pink, starting to shade towards red. The gasps are turning into slightly wet yelps, the first hint of tears in the dissenting vocalizations. Jack starts to pay special attention to the lower half of Daniel’s bottom and after a couple of hard smacks there, Daniel's hand flies back to protect his burning butt.

Jack quickly pulls the offending hand away, smacks the back of it once, and then intertwines their fingers and rests both of their hands at the small of Daniel’s back and continues spanking, aiming to bring the color to an allover even red. For a moment the man in his grasp is still quiet, kicking his free leg and drumming his toes into the carpet, but on a particularly low swat to where one sit-spot meets his thigh, he opens his mouth. “Ow! Ahh! O-ow! NoOO, J-Ack! I’m s-sorry, please s-stop! _Jaaack_ , owww!” The tears are right there now, threatening in every little wobble of his pleading voice.

“Sorry for what?” He doesn’t stop spanking but he slows considerably and lightens the swats, making more noise than anything else, just to keep the miscreant over his lap focused on what’s going on.

“F-for risking my l-life on a plan nob-body approve of,” Comes the first stuttered response, pitifully limp over Jack’s lap and voice dripping sincere regret. “S-sorry, J’ck, really.”

“What else?”

He has to think about that one and Jack maintains the slower swats. He’s pretty sure Daniel doesn’t even realize he’s not spanking as hard, each loud but relatively light swat still makes his body jerk and his breath hitch like a full-strength one. He’s about to open his mouth and give Daniel a hint as the younger man goes increasingly tense and nearly vibrates uncertainty over his knee, but on a sudden gasp, he goes limp again. “S-s-orry for manipulatin’ y-you instead of admitting I w-was upset w-with you.”

“Our job is risky enough as it is. You can’t go tempting death like that. One of these times it’s going to happen, for real, and my heart won’t be able to take that.” Jack ups the tempo and heart behind each smack again, covering Daniel’s bottom and thighs in _hard_ swats that make his hand hurt as well. There’s a brief and sincere struggle from the body under his arm and then the tears start in earnest, little sobs that tear at his heart, and Daniel goes boneless and unresisting in his grasp. Hardening his heart against the miserable sounds – this is far from the first time they’ve been in this situation – Jack moves his leg to free Daniel and hitches him just a little further up over the bed.

“You. Almost. Died. Daniel.” He punctuates each word with a swat to alternating sit-spots, the hardest four swats he’s ever dealt out to the precious being in his lap. The fear of those few moments washes over him yet again, the heart-stopping realization that there’s nothing he can do, and for a couple of harsh breaths, he bends over Daniel and tries to catch his breath, while his charge weeps quietly.

Utterly disregarding Daniel’s state of undress, he wraps his arms around him and one smooth motion scoots back against the headboard and drags the kid up against his chest. He locks his arms around the archaeologist as tightly as he can and buries his face in Daniel’s neck, rocking him like that for a minute until his own heartbeat steadies and his breathing evens out and then loosening his grip inch by inch until he can lay back against the headboard and run a firm, soothing hand up and down Daniel’s long spine as he continues to sniffle and choke back tears.

“Don’t ever do that to me again.” When he finally speaks, his voice is dry and hoarse.

Daniel, who is also finally quiet, one hand tangled in Jack’s shirt and the other absently rubbing his butt because Jack’s soothing touch stays resolutely above the waist, looks up at him, and smiles a little crookedly. “I’ll try, Jack, but I can’t make the promise. I know you hate that.”

God, this man. Only this man would be that honest with someone who just lit an inferno on his butt. “Yeah, damn right I do.” It draws a strangled, half-horrified laugh out of the colonel and he leans down to lay his forehead against Danny’s. “At least promise me you’ll always stop and think things through. Don’t die for some stupid reason. And that’s stupid by _my_ standards, Doctor Jackson, _not_ yours.”

“Okay, Jack. I promise.” Daniel stretches a little bit and squirms down until he’s laying on his stomach, head pillowed on Jack’s lap, and scrubs at the tears drying on his face even as he yawns hard enough to look like his jaw will crack. “Stay a while?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Danny.” Jack kneads at a particularly stiff spot in the center of Daniel’s back and he arches against the touch like a pleased cat, making a sleepy sound somewhere in the pleased-cat range to accompany it. With his other hand, Jack reaches down to drag a blanket over Daniel’s lower half and his own legs, and by the time he’s done that Daniel’s eyes are closed and his breathing is deep and even.

For a minute he just stares at him, memorizing every detail down to each eyelash, and then takes Danny’s glasses off of his face and puts them on the nightstand, dims the light, and shifts into a more comfortable position himself, shoving some of Daniel’s pillows behind his back and head. Coming up with an excuse for why he spent the night in Daniel’s quarters instead of his own will have to be a task for the morning because he’s not far behind Danny sliding into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S4E5 (“Divide and Conquer”) – Alliance negotiations between the Tok’ra and the Tau’ri are disrupted by the attempted assassination of the Tok’ra representative. The Tok’ra reveal that the Goa’uld have developed a brainwashing technique that essentially creates sleeper assasins. They test everyone at the SCG, and Sam and Jack are found to be brainwashed (“Zatarcs”). Just before Jack agrees to undergo an experimental and possibly fatal deprogramming technique, Sam stops them and tells Jack that they have to “tell the whole truth”; they admit to having ‘feelings’ for each other that they ‘aren’t supposed to have’ and the machine shows they are not Zatarcs.
> 
> S4E6 (“Window of Opportunity”) – Jack and Teal’c get stuck in a time loop for about 3 months, or 220 loops. They do all sort of crazy things like golfing through the stargate, bicycling in the hallways, and in Jack’s case, offering his resignation to Hammond in the control room and turning around and kissing Sam, before getting down to work and learning how to correct the issue despite everyone else not being much help as they are reset every day.
> 
> S4E7 (“Watergate”) – The SGC’s gate won’t engage, and they realize that the Russians have recovered the other gate and are using it; it’s stuck open, which is why the secondary gate won’t engage. SG-1 is sent to Siberia with the one Russian stargate team who can be contacted. She doesn’t tell them until they get there that they will have to jump out of the plane, which Teal’c and Daniel are less than thrilled by. Once at the base the Russian, Sam, and Daniel are almost killed when they take a submarine out to investigate the water and it captures them. Thankfully, it “trades” them back when Teal’c coughs the last of the ‘stolen’ water back up through the Gate.
> 
> S4E8 (“The First Ones”) – Daniel is on a long dig on a planet they think is the Goa’uld homeworld with SG-11 and his former research assistant Doctor Rothman, when they are attacked by an Unas and Daniel is taken captive. Most of SG-11 dies; Rothman escapes and gets through the Gate to bring SG-1 to the rescue. Before they find Daniel, it is revealed that Rothman and one of the rescue team have become Goa’uld and Jack is forced to kill them. Daniel manages to befriend his Unas captor and doesn’t allow Jack to shoot him when SG-1 catches up to him; Daniel’s Unas defeats the clan leader who tries to kill Daniel and SG-1 and take over the clan.
> 
> S4E9 (“Scorched Earth”) – SG-1 has liberated and relocated a people enslaved by Goa’uld, the Enkarans, to a new planet where they can survive and won’t get sick and go blind and die. When they go to check on them, they discover a ship from another people, the Gadmere, has chosen the same planet to recolonize their people, and the process would kill the Enkarans. They don’t have time to evacuate them, and they would die on Earth as well. The Gadmere’s robot refuses at first to consider any other options, so it comes down to a choice between the Enkarans and the entire Gadmere civilization and a planet worth of plants and animals. Jack chooses the Enkarans and orders Sam to make a naquadah bomb to blow up the ship. Daniel, meanwhile, is upset at Jack’s decision and risks his life to convince the Gadmere construct to reconsider. He talks him into stopping to look for a different solution but Jack and Sam have already armed the bomb and can’t disarm it – the construct beams it up to the ship and with only five seconds to spare before the ship blows up and takes Daniel with it, manages to vent it out into the sky to explode harmlessly. Then he realizes he can transport the Enkarans to a suitable world and still fulfill his mission of terraforming the planet for the Gadmere.


	11. Snippet: Tangent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which Jack almost dies, and Daniel doesn't handle it any better on this side of the coin than Jack usually does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short fluff chapter to go with S4E12, where Jack and Teal’c are trapped on a rogue death glider out in space and Daniel and Sam have to figure out how to get to them before they run out of oxygen.

“Daniel?” Janet’s voice is pitched low and soothing, but the hand she lays on his shoulder as she says it gives the impression it might not have been the first time she called his name.

Surfacing from the translations in his lap with effort, he forces himself to look up at her and offer a smile. “Hey.”

Whatever she finds when she searches his face must not be reassuring, because the diminutive doctor frowns at him. “I know it’s no use telling you to go on home, but did you at least get some dinner?” Disregarding the soft noise of protest he makes, and taking advantage of the fact that they have to be quiet so as not to disturb the colonel, Janet grabs his wrist and glances down at her watch to take his pulse. She ignores his attempts to pull it back and only releases it when she’s determined his heart rate is acceptable, though it does nothing to alleviate the frown.

Times like this, Daniel is very glad that he’s a civilian, and there are no consequences for lying to the chief medical officer other than her personal wrath if she finds out. He smiles as reassuringly as he can while replying, “Of course.” And Daniel _had_ eaten dinner if you counted the last power bar from his jacket pocket and the half a bowl of jello Jack hadn’t finished.

“Okay, well, make sure you get some rest tonight too. Colonel O’Neill is going to be fine, just needs to sleep off the last of the effects of the hypoxia.” Janet takes her leave, drawing the curtain around the colonel’s bed as she goes. Daniel returns to his translations, lulled into a half-trancelike state by the steady rhythm of the heart monitor.

When the letters on the page start to blur and waver, Daniel takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, stretching and shifting in the hard chair. His watch says it’s just after 3 am. He shuts the book and his journal, setting them on the floor by his feet, and slides the chair a little closer to Jack’s bed, so he can fold his arms on the edge of the mattress and lay his head down facing Jack’s face, peaceful in his sleep.

This hadn’t been Daniel’s idea of a fun mission from the start – he wasn’t all that interested in the flight capabilities of Goa’uld death gliders outside of their ability to get the team out of trouble off-world – but Jack, Sam, and Teal’c had been like kids in a candy shop. It had turned out to be more than a little fun to tag along and watch Jack in his element, the colonel bursting with pride at being chosen to do the test flight on the X-301. It had overflowed into several moments of over-the-top Jack-humor that General Vidrine hadn’t found at all amusing, but Daniel had had to look away to prevent anyone from seeing the laughter in his face.

It had become seriously not fun when the X-301 went rogue and disappeared off of their radar systems entirely. Daniel had been very glad he’d agreed to be a part of the test flight project instead of taking time away to work on his backlog of translations and artifact dating because being in the thick of things had meant he was never in the dark and the General had almost immediately approved him to start contacting their allies while Sam and Major Davis tried to find a way to reroute the glider.

If he had been delayed even a few minutes, Jack would have died. As it was, they barely made it. Daniel reaches out and lays a hand on the chest in front of him, wanting the tangible proof of Jack’s chest rising and falling.

The Tollan had been honestly apologetic that they didn’t have a spacecraft capable of reaching the stranded glider in time. For all of their advanced technology, apparently, that had never been a priority for them. The Tok’ra had been, predictably, more frustrating. Daniel isn’t sure that he has forgiven Anise for the armband incident, nor the Zatarc machine, but he pretty shamelessly trades on her host’s attraction to Jack (and her attraction to himself…) as well as channeling his fear into anger, and the combination yields results.

Another star perfectly and luckily aligned. If it had been any Tok’ra operative on the mission close to earth other than Jacob Carter, they would never have abandoned their objectives to rush across the galaxy to save two SG members. Jacob might not even have done it for anyone by SG-1.

While Sam had done the crazy science to follow Anise’s bread crumbs to the right planet to find her dad, Daniel got to talk to Jack. Of course, he hadn’t been able to say anything that _mattered_ but if he had been stuck in Jack’s position, having Jack on the other end of that radio would have meant the difference between hope and despair, and he needs Jack to be hoping.

Jacob had not been happy to see them. That thought makes Daniel smile a little; _Jack, he sounded a lot like you when we do something that scares you._ Thankfully, he hadn’t had much time to chew on Sam and Daniel once they got the situation explained since he was too busy pushing his craft to the absolute limit of its capabilities and keeping it from falling apart.

Daniel had spent most of the journey wishing he could help pilot the ship or keep its drives running, because all he had was time to worry about Jack and Teal’c. Still, he was happy to stay mostly in the background of the brief but impassioned argument Sam had with her dad and Selmak; he backed Sam up, of course, but it was always strange to walk the line between Jacob being airforce and Sam’s father, and Selmak the Tok’ra, allies but not always comfortable ones.

_It didn’t help either that all I could really think about was all the things I would never have told you, Jack._

Perhaps it was thoughts of Jack that made Daniel tell the Goa’uld that he was ‘the Great and Powerful Oz’. That could have been very interesting, but Sam and Jacob pulled through at the last second on the repairs to the hyperdrive and they were off again in their race against time. Putting eyes on the glider had been the first time he’d allowed himself to truly hope in hours – and when neither Jack nor Teal’c had responded to being hailed over the radio, panic had tried to claw its way up his throat. Jacob’s ‘Are we too late?’ had inspired a spike of anxiety so strong Daniel probably could have thrown up; thankfully Sam’s voice had followed quickly after to reassure him that she was fairly sure they were just unconscious. Daniel doesn’t know whether she’d honestly believed that, or just said it to keep herself (and him) calm. In the end, they’d had to physically jolt Jack awake by running the scout ship into the glider – and then Jack had been speaking, and Daniel let the wall take his weight and closed his eyes in relief as Sam and Jacob talked them through the rescue plan.

 _You scared the shit out of me, Jack_.

The glider had disappeared under the scout ship, severing their line of sight, and so Daniel had been happy to follow Jacob’s instructions to wait in the hold, standing just back from where the rings would deposit their cargo. The mechanical humming of the rings had never been a more welcome sound. They’d fallen to the ground and he rushed over; Teal’c almost immediately rolling over to sit up and Daniel brushed a hand across his shoulder as he fell to his knees, releasing the mask apparatus on Jack’s helmet so he could breathe the well-oxygenated atmosphere of the scout ship; yelling back towards the cockpit that they’re ok.

Jack had reached out and put a hand on Daniel’s arm, even as he looked up and spoke to Jacob. It had been enough; more than enough when he smiled at him after Jacob stood to go back to driving and Sam turned to check on Teal’c. Daniel hadn’t been able to say anything then, either, but Jack’s face had said plenty for both of them. Daniel had rushed around getting them something to eat and drink, even as they rallied a bit under the better conditions, and let Sam tell them all about the rescue efforts.

There’s a blip in the monitors and Daniel looks up. Jack’s eyes are open, peering down at him a little blearily.

“Daniel?”

“Hey, Jack.”

“What time iz’t?”

Daniel has to check, sitting up on his elbows and looking at his watch. “Ah…about three-thirty. Here,” Jack’s voice sounded a little hoarse still, so he reaches for the water on the side table as well, holding it up for Jack. The older man takes a drink from the convenient straw and then tries to sit up. “Jack, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’d rest better at home. Where’s Janet?”

“Gone, and she left strict orders for you to stay overnight, so the nurses aren’t going to be charmed even by you.”

“Shouldn’t you be gone and in bed now too?”

Daniel just looks at him, finding this a little hypocritical given the many hours Jack has spent at his bedside. “You almost died,” he accuses, but, there’s a flicker of uncertainty and he draws back a little bit from the bed – does Jack not want him here? “I can go-“ Daniel starts to push to his feet, looking away, stopping when a firm hand wraps around his.

“Don’t go.” Carefully, he looks back over at Jack, who is studying him. “You okay, Daniel?”

Sinking back into the chair, he gives a tiny lopsided smile and a shrug, considering what to say. The whole time they raced to reach the glider in time he’d worried about being too late, but now that they’re here, he isn’t sure what he wanted to say anyway. Half of the things in his head, he can’t say on base, and the other half Jack should already know. “I am now,” he settles on. “Was just worried, that’s all.”

“I wasn’t. Worried, that is.” The colonel lays back down against the pillows but doesn’t take his eyes off of Daniel’s. “I knew you and Sam would find a way.” There’s lazy confidence in his voice, even as it slows and deepens with weariness. Daniel is glad that Jack was so sure because he certainly hadn’t been.  
  
Jack looks back over at him, eyes half-closed, and even rapidly succumbing to sleep still manages to give orders. Daniel wonders irreverently if that’s an air force officer thing or just a Jack thing. “Go find a bed, I’m fine. You did good. You can come to spring me for breakfast.”

“Sure, Jack.” He rolls his eyes, considering reminding him that he’s not in any position to be giving orders, but Jack’s already sleeping. After watching for a few minutes to make sure Jack will stay asleep, Daniel pulls the blankets up to his friend’s shoulders and then decides he might as well go find his bed.

Not, of course, because Jack told him to – just because it makes the most sense.


	12. The Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daniel loses yet another person who was close to him to the Goa'uld, and Jack is left to try and pick up the pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows S4E13 (“The Curse”). Everything you need to know about the episode should be in the chapter. :3 Thanks to everyone who has commented or left kudos, you are the best. 
> 
> Edit: the proofread should be done now so you can enjoy dumb-error-free.

He should absolutely never have let Daniel go to Chicago by himself. But, damn it, he wasn’t even leaving Earth. It wasn’t Stargate business. Even Daniel shouldn’t have been able to get into trouble at a funeral.

Leaning back against the door of the SUV, Jack adjusts his sunglasses and wonders who he’s kidding. This is Doctor Daniel Jackson he’s talking about – the man who first posited the real purpose of the pyramids and managed to open the door to the stars where everyone else had failed, and that was just the beginning; it should not have been a shock to anyone when he managed to find two Goa’uld entombed in the last artifacts his mentor had been studying when he died and then ended up halfway across the planet in Egypt.

Changing weight from one leg to the other, Jack crosses his left over his right and glances down at his watch. The transport isn’t late…yet. Teal’c, standing beside him in his usual version of parade rest, glances over at the obvious signs of Jack’s unrest. “Is something troubling you, O’Neill?”

Jack shoves his hands into his pockets and grunts. He isn’t sure what he was attempting to communicate, but it apparently means something to Teal’c, who tilts his head as he formulates a response.

“Doctor Fraiser reported that only Daniel Jackson’s friend was seriously harmed, and he will recover. All of their other injuries are minor.”

“We should have been with them.” Jack isn’t even sure who to be mad at. Hammond, for sending them? Sam or Daniel, for not making more of an effort to get ahold of the rest of their team? Himself, for taking the battery out of the phone Teal’c had brought along? The last one is what has been bothering him the most, but all of the possibilities have been given fair consideration in the past few hours.

A second vehicle pulls up behind them; the medical transport for Steven Raynor, who while no longer in critical condition is headed right back to a hospital in the States for some more recovery…and then probably to be debriefed about classified information by some branch of the government.

T has turned, frowning at him, clearly ready to impart some sort of wisdom Jack isn’t sure he wants to hear, but the heavy droning of the military transport plane coming into the runway makes it impossible for them to hear each other, saving Jack from whatever was on Teal’c’s mind. Saved by the bell. Plane. Whatever; he doesn’t need Teal’c to tell him he messed up when he hung up on Daniel, he already figured that out before they ever left the cabin. He’d been driven by a vague and growing unease to eventually put the battery back into the cell phone and call the SGC, but by that point, his team was already gone, following a presumed Goa’uld, and Jack and Teal’c had no way of catching up.

Janet is the first one off the plane, helping guide a gurney onto the tarmac and striding alongside it on the way to the medical transport. She’s carrying a clipboard thick with the paperwork she’s still filling out as she starts to brief the medics who will take responsibility for the unconscious civilian.

Sam and Daniel come down the ramp a moment later, moving more slowly, but both under their own steam. Sam’s talking to Daniel, making short efficient gestures to accompany her words, but their archaeologist isn’t paying attention. His gaze is following the gurney, and to Jack’s eye, while Sam and the Doc seem fine, Daniel looks disheveled and worn down. He pushes off of the door behind him, purposefully moving to catch Sam’s eye, and she smiles a little in their direction and puts a hand on Daniel’s shoulder, murmuring something in his ear as she turns him toward Jack and Teal’c.

“Welcome home, kids.” Jack takes the second bag Sam is carrying – Janet’s, he presumes – and walks around the back of the Air Force vehicle to put it in the trunk. Normally these things came with drivers, but Jack had needed something to keep his mind busy on the way, so he’d opted to serve as the chauffeur for the afternoon.

“Thank you, Sir. Uh, how was fishing?” Sam puts her own bag into the back of the SUV and reaches for Daniel’s; he relinquishes it without protest.

“I do not believe there are any fish in O’Neill’s lake.” Teal’c intones this from the other side of the truck and somehow manages to make it sound like a complaint even though the delivery is without any sort of inflection.

“Oh, ya know, vacation was going great, until we got word that half of my team had decided to go Goa’uld hunting without us.” Jack shuts the hatch with a little more force than necessary, and eyes Daniel, who seems to have at least been shaken a little bit out of his daze by the noise. Daniel doesn’t say anything though, leaving Sam to rally some sort of response, which of course she does admirably, with only the hint of a wince to indicate she might have heard the hint of how annoyed he really was.

“It was a…time-sensitive issue, Sir. Daniel and the General both made attempts to contact you, but the line wouldn’t connect.”

“Is that right, Daniel?” Jack drawls, putting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and using that supposedly friendly gesture to loom just a little bit. Daniel doesn’t look up, determinedly avoiding Jack’s face as he responds.

“Yes, Jack, weirdly the phone that the General sent along wouldn’t connect when we tried to get a hold of you guys again. You really should think about taking a satellite phone or something when you go out to the cabin if service is that bad.” He gives a little shrug and slips out from Jack’s grasp. “I’m going to go see if Janet is planning on coming with us or heading to the hospital with Steven. She hadn’t decided on the plane.”

* * *

An hour later in the briefing room back at the SGC, everything is starting to make a little more sense, as the returned travelers spin out their tale of Egyptian intrigue. Jack spins his chair towards Daniel, trying to keep the tone of his voice from being accusing, because he finds he’s quite jealous of Sarah Gardner. Daniel is reticent with information about his past at the best of times, but there’s definitely something about this woman that’s getting to him. “And it never occurred to you that your pal Sarah might be the Goa’uld?”

Still looking distinctly unkempt and more exhausted than Sam or Janet, Daniel looks up at Jack over the tops of his glasses, assessing his tone and his words even as he answers him quietly. “Sarah wasn’t the one acting strangely, Steven was.” He looks away after that, holding his pen tightly in both hands like he might be trying to bend it. “I trusted Sarah. Steven and I were always more academic competitors than anything else but Sarah and I were…close.”

“Do we have any idea where this Goa’uld will have gone?” The General’s question prevents Jack from saying anything else, which is probably for the best. If he wants to know more about these people that his archeologist had spent so many formative years with, sniping and suspicion aren’t going to get him anywhere. He knows that – if he wants Daniel to open up to him, he’ll have to take a different approach.

“He was imprisoned for 10,000 years, and we killed both of the other Goa’uld he was closest to – Seth on Earth, and Isis died in the stasis jar.” Daniel glances down at his notes and then gives a half-hearted shrug. “Osiris will have to find a way to gain new power somehow, I doubt whoever imprisoned him left him much to work with.”

“The ship was definitely different than what we’ve seen the Goa’uld piloting now,” Sam added. “It’s probably significantly older, given how long it must have been buried there. And we know from the Tok’ra that the Goa’uld have minimal shielding capabilities even now – so if it had lingered near Earth I think we would have detected it, Sir.”

“And this Steven Raynor?”

All eyes go to Janet, who gives a little shrug. “I’m guardedly optimistic that he’ll make a full recovery, but only time will tell at this point. He’s in the base hospital and under guard until he’s fully conscious long enough for the importance of national security to be imparted to him, and then he’ll be someone else’s problem. But he’s in the best possible hands at the hospital until he recovers.”

“Very well. It seems the immediate crisis has passed. Go home and get some rest, people.”

The General retreats to his office and Daniel is out of his seat before Jack can grab him, but his attempt to slip out the door and escape is bungled by Janet intercepting him at the door. “You still don’t look great, Daniel. I’d rather you not go home tonight and stay by yourself. You did have some signs of a concussion.”

“I was going to go to the hospital…”

Jack throws an arm around his archaeologist’s shoulders, taking a slight vindictive pleasure at the way Daniel jumps at the touch, glad he’s not totally losing his edge. “Don’t worry, Doc,” he says, accompanying it with his most winning smile. “Daniel’s going to come home with me, and I’ll keep an eye on him for you tonight.” Fraiser visibly relaxes, in counterpoint to Danny who tenses under his arm.

“Make sure he eats, too, Colonel. I don’t think I saw him eat more than a bite of anything the whole time we were gone.”

“Will do, Doc.”

“And plenty of fluids – _not_ beer, Jack.”

“I’ll make sure the good doctor takes care of general basic needs, Doc, you know I’m good at that.”

“The _good doctor_ is right here, you know,” Daniel mutters, but only makes one half-hearted attempt to escape Jack’s arm over his shoulder before giving up. Janet smiles at him, gently, in a way that seems to be reserved for Daniel and Cassie.

“I know, Daniel, and I know most of it is probably still shock and grief. But that could quickly become something else if you don’t get rested and take care of yourself, alright? And I don’t expect Steven to wake up tonight, but if something changes I will let you know.”

“Yes, mother,” Daniel rolls his big blue eyes so hard Jack thinks they might have seen him in Hammond’s office, but softens the insult by leaning forward to kiss Janet’s cheek sweetly. “See you tomorrow, Janet.”

* * *

Jack takes them to his house, of course. Daniel thinks it’s a good thing that his fish are relatively low-maintenance and that he has a young neighbor whose mother refuses to have any pets who is happy to feed them whenever Daniel is on base. The kid’s mom was super suspicious of how often Daniel was gone, at first, but she seems to have accepted that he has absolutely no life and spends most nights at the base. In reality, probably about a third of the nights she thinks he’s on base, he’s at Jack’s, especially recently, but the work excuse is easier to manage and garners more sympathy than the truth.

He flees to the bathroom as soon as they’re in the door. A hot shower and a change of clothes is the first thing on his mind – somehow, because they hadn’t been off-world it hadn’t been a priority back at the SGC. Or maybe that’s because Sam and Janet had showered and changed while they stabilized Steven in the Egyptian hospital and arranged transport back to the States. Daniel hadn’t been able to make himself go over to the hotel room they’d arranged next to the hospital, sitting vigil instead in the waiting room and later at Steven’s bedside.

They may not have ever been as close as Daniel and Sarah, but Steven had been a friend. His animosity after the funeral had been hard to take, but the idea that he almost died because Daniel had to keep the truth a secret was worse. Janet had assured him over and over than the man would pull through, but it’s hard to believe her until it happens.

Leaning his head against the wall, he lets the hot water pound on the tight muscles in his back and tentatively touches the raw spot that is Sarah. With his eyes closed, he thinks of her as she was – all sharp, bright smiles and hungry for knowledge. She’d been the same way in their relationship and their bed, a whirlwind of energy and warmth that swept him along in its wake. The memories are tainted now, like his memories of Sha’re, by the intrusion of flashes of yellow eyes and sinister smiles.

Did Sarah open the Osiris jar because Daniel wouldn’t tell her anything? The thought makes his stomach clench and the guilt roll over him, but he couldn’t have done anything differently. The Stargate and everything that goes with it is classified for good reason, and even Daniel couldn’t get away with breaking that seal of secrecy.

The other option is that Sarah had opened the jar before Dr. Jordan had died, when they’d received the news that the artifacts had to go back to Egypt. Steven would have been the one who complained the loudest, but if Steven was complaining, Sarah had always been several steps past that looking for a solution, even one that bent or broke the rules. This possibility hurts just as much because that would mean none of their interactions were real, and that possibly Sarah had hated him for leaving and not coming back just as much as Steven.

A rapid shave-and-a-haircut knock on the door rouses him, and he realizes the water isn’t even hot anymore, which means quite some time has passed while he was deep in thought.

“Daniel?” They’ve been walking a fine balance between friends and…something more that neither of them has been willing to put a name to, but the closed bathroom door is enough of a signal that Jack knows to knock instead of letting himself in.

“Yeah, coming.”

He turns off the water and finds a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to change into before padding quietly down the hall and into the kitchen. Jack is serving something into two bowls at the stove, and a quick glance as he comes alongside him to get a glass out of the cabinet makes Daniel smile a little to find the pan full of his own cooking, which Jack must have warmed up out of the freezer. If he’d stayed on base, Sam or Janet would have tried to ply him with some sort of bland American comfort food – toast maybe, or something like tomato soup and grilled cheese. Jack knows better; he knows that when Daniel’s looking for comfort food, he’s looking for the sharper and distinctive tastes of Mediterranean dishes that remind him of his childhood.

He takes his glass of water, stopping to grab Jack a beer from the fridge, and settles down on the couch. Jack’s not far behind with their dinner, and they eat in peaceful silence, though he’s certainly not unaware of the long looks aimed his direction when Jack thinks he’s not paying attention. The colonel doesn’t get truly twitchy until they’ve both finished eating, Daniel clearing the dishes away to the sink to be dealt with later, and he comes back to settle into the couch again.

Jack’s fingers are drumming a quiet but impatient rhythm on the leather underneath his hand, and he opens his mouth several times as if he’s going to start but every time he chokes off whatever it is and frowns as if reconsidering his words. A rush of deep affection fills Daniel; he half expected Jack to jump all over him in the car on the way home, but here he is still keeping everything bottled up, waiting for Daniel to take the lead and decide how much he’s willing to share about these people he’s never talked about.

"Daniel..."

"Jack." On impulse, he scoots across the cushions and tucks himself under Jack’s arm before the other man can react, pressing their sides together and putting his head on the colonel’s shoulder. “Sarah and I were over before I ever left Chicago. We didn’t break up because my career tanked, we broke up because we weren’t good for each other.”

Underneath him, he can feel it as Jack starts to relax bit by bit. This isn’t the only thing bothering him, of course, but it would have been a big one. “Carter said you considered asking to read her in and bring her back to the Mountain.”

Jack’s voice might be neutral, but the words aren’t. “I trusted her because she was always a good friend, not because I was interested in her, Jack. She’d been studying those particular artifacts for years, and when it became clear Dr. Jordan’s death was foul play, I thought maybe she could help. If the university and the museum had decided to balk at my investigations, she would have been invaluable.”

“I’m sorry about your professor. Bad enough when it was natural causes but…” He doesn’t have to finish, Daniel knows where he was going with that. Bad enough if he had died in a freak gas accident, but worse that the Goa’uld have stolen yet another person Daniel loved. Slowly, Jack’s right arm finds its way around him and he starts to idly run his fingers through the hair on the back of Daniel’s head and neck, which feels _amazing_. Daniel leans back into the touch rather shamelessly and decides to keep sharing.

“I should have reached out to him years ago. He would have welcomed me back even with nothing to show for the years apart. I distanced myself from him to protect him when I started to try and pursue my wilder theories, but he never cared.” Daniel sighs, remembering how his mentor had always listened, even if he couldn’t see what Daniel saw. “I just hated that I couldn’t tell him about any of it, and so it always seemed better to stay away. There would always be people like Steven, who wouldn’t let my supposed failures rest if I went back.”

“This Steven character sounds like a real piece of work,” Jack grumbles, making Daniel smile yet again. For once, knowing nothing he says here will ever leave this room, he allows himself to be just a little petty.

“I never much worried about Steven, Jack, he was just jealous. Dr. Jordan always liked me better, and while I think Sarah and Steven were pretty serious lately, she dated me first.” That gets a surprised chuckle out of Jack, which is exactly what Daniel wanted because he doesn’t want Jack to stew on the things he finds unfair about Daniel’s life before the Stargate. He tries to keep the philosophy that he can’t change his past, so it’s not worth dwelling on what was fair or unfair, on what other people did. Jack doesn’t ever seem to see it that way. Every time something about his past comes to light that doesn’t fit with what Jack thinks is fair, he worries it like a dog with a favorite bone.

His own actions, well, that’s a different story. He knows he gets tangled up in his webs of guilt and self-recrimination, sometimes so deeply buried that he can’t get free. The worst are the nightmares, where he gets to relive the consequences of his bad decisions and worst moments again and again and again until they’re supplanted by new failures. The earliest one is his parent’s death; he still wonders if he hadn’t distracted them that day, would they have noticed the instability in the tomb before it collapsed? It’s part of why he doesn’t sleep on a regular schedule that would please Jack and Janet; it’s easier to work himself to complete exhaustion so that his body has no choice but to essentially collapse and rest, and then there are fewer dreams.

Of course, now he has found another solution. It’s crazy, and he doesn’t like to look too closely at what they’re doing, but he never has guilt-induced nightmares about the things Jack spanks him for, and he usually doesn’t have other nightmares those nights either. Daniel doesn’t mind the strain it takes off of their day-to-day relationship, either. Before, when he’d truly riled Jack up, it had sometimes taken days or even weeks of their friendship being strained before his friend could let things go; Daniel being completely out of the military chain of command had always been hard for Jack. Daniel having some sort of consequences seemed to bridge that gap, and it just works for them.

Even though he can acknowledge all of those truths to himself, somehow Daniel still isn’t usually able to admit that he _needs_ a spanking (not since that first time on the roof, after Hadante, and that had taken a little liquid courage, though he hadn’t ever admitted that to Jack). Most of the time he doesn’t have to – after the initial reluctance, Jack had taken to the whole thing quite well and tends to anticipate Daniel’s needs on his own. He’s only had to manipulate Jack into spanking him a couple of times, and both times he quite regretted it and wished he could have just made himself ask before he dug a guilt-induced hole for himself that ended up getting him into serious trouble. In the comfort of his thoughts, he can admit that this is one of those times. Guilt about Sarah and Steven will eat away at him, but every time he tries to find the words to ask, it’s like he gets verbal paralysis.

It’s gotten quite dark outside, but he’s happy curled up against Jack and not inclined to move when the older man’s voice breaks the silence. “So. You couldn’t get a hold of me, huh?”

Ah. Maybe he won’t have to ask, because that is the voice of a Jack O’Neill who is seriously not pleased. Daniel had picked up on this threat earlier, but caught up in thoughts of Sarah and Osiris and Steven and Egypt, he’d completely forgotten that Jack had almost called him on this little lie twice already today, once at the landing strip and again in the debrief with the General. He tries to stay relaxed, willing his voice to be calm and casual. Just moments ago he was trying to make himself ask for a spanking, but now with one looming decidedly above his head, survival instincts have kicked in. “Yeah, after you hung up on me, the phone the General sent with you guys wouldn’t connect. Teal’c says you took the battery out.”

Jack’s hand gentle still in his hair is in direct contrast to the steel in his voice. “Funny, I didn’t hear the phone in the cabin ring. Did you forget the number?”

Shit. Daniel’s probably the only person alive besides Jack’s ex-wife who knows there’s a phone in the cabin, albeit hidden in a cabinet (out of sight out of mind) and never used. Jack had installed it ages ago, before cell phones, when he married Sara, in case there was ever an emergency while they were there. Jack had given him the number early on after Abydos in case Daniel ever needed him when he was out there, when Jack was all Daniel had in the world, and ensured he’d memorized it. Still trying not to wince, he admits, “Um…I didn’t call it. I wasn’t sure you wanted the General to know it existed since you never told him yourself.”

It’s a lame excuse, but he hopes maybe it will hold water anyway. It doesn’t.

“And nobody answered at Frank’s?”

Frank, the retired police officer with the cabin closest to Jack’s. Another number Jack had made him memorize, as a backup in case there ever was a problem with the reception at the cabin, or in case of emergency if nobody was answering at the cabin to have a living person to go check it out. Daniel valiantly resists the urge to put some distance between himself and Jack. “I didn’t call Frank’s either.”

“So you thought it was a better choice to go racing off to God knows where, chasing a Goa’uld we know nothing about, without any backup, rather than admit to the General you knew damn well how to get ahold of me?”

“I had backup,” Daniel grumbles, finally shifting to pull away from Jack and sit back in the middle of the couch. “The General sent Sam _and_ Janet.”

“Doc Fraiser is _not_ a field officer,” Jack snaps. “You had half an SG team worth of backup, at best.”

“If we had waited for you to get back to the SGC we might have missed them.”

“That’s a crap excuse Daniel and you know it. You should have called as soon as you realized there were two jars and one was missing. Teal’c and I could have met you there.”

“Well, _you_ hung up on me,” he makes a last attempt, trying to look offended. “I didn’t think you were interested.”

“Nice try, Dannyboy, but you know I would have answered the cabin phone if you called it and explained… _anything_ …before haring off on your own.”

“Yeah.” Daniel looks away, biting his lip, and feels Jack home in on that with laser focus, frowning at him. It’s the same expression of discontent he gets when he’s working on his crosswords – the irritation of not quite being able to solve a problem by himself.

“Spill, Daniel.”

“Um…I was trying to…ask…anyway.” Without turning his head, he glimpses Jack’s expression out of the corner of his eye and can see that did not clear anything up for him, so Daniel tries again, feeling a blush start and crawl across his face. “I feel guilty about Steven getting hurt because I trusted Sarah, too.”

“Danny, that’s not your fault. The idiot was messing with things he had no business messing with. Plus, he seems like a real jerk. I would have suspected him too.”

“Doesn’t change how I _feel_ , Jack,” he still doesn’t want to meet his friend’s eyes, but the frustrated bite of his words must get his point across because he can see Jack’s slow nod as he processes.

“So, running into danger without enough backup because you were peeved with me, and a good dose of guilt because you aren’t omniscient. I can deal with both of those.” His hand appears, palm up and open for Daniel’s. With a heavy sigh and the clenched gut that always comes right before the main event, he puts his hand in Jack’s and lets himself be pulled over Jack’s knees, fidgeting a little to try and find a secure spot until a heavy arm wraps around his middle and Jack lifts his hips slightly, hooking warm fingers into the sweats and Daniel’s underwear and pulling them down to his knees.

The slight whine of embarrassment comes involuntarily, and Daniel hates it. It’s not like Jack hasn’t seen that – and much more, recently! It's stupid to be embarrassed by this and not anything else they've done, but he is every time. Once he’s done baring his bottom, Jack shifts backward, pulling Daniel tight against his body, and then pauses to get a last confirmation. “Okay?”

Daniel closes his eyes, dropping his head and relaxing into Jack’s firm grasp, and manages to choke out, “Okay.”

The first smack always takes him by surprise; this time is no different and he jumps and gasps, and then lies quietly as swat after swat lands, managing to confine his physical reactions to one or two jerks when the smacks land low on his butt or at the top of his thighs. Jack isn’t talking – sometimes he does, but not always, and not usually when they’ve talked it over beforehand. Daniel thinks it’s easier when Jack scolds as he spanks because it gives him something to focus on. This way, when he’s silent, all he can think about is whatever decisions got him into his current predicament.

Oh, and eventually, how unpleasant it is. His butt stings all over, the unique stinging-itching-smarting feeling that only comes with being thoroughly spanked, and now each of Jack’s sharp smacks is starting to hurt. Daniel starts to lose the battle against silence, each spank prompting a yelp or low whine depending on how it lands, and he begins to wiggle his hips and kick his feet a little as the stinging turns into an all-over burn, with each new spank. He can’t even think about how embarrassing it is anymore; all he can think about is that it hurts, he’s sorry, and he wants it to stop. Kicking isn’t helping; every strike lands with accuracy where Jack wants it, but Daniel kicks anyway, gasping a little wetly on unshed tears.

Underneath him, Jack lifts his right knee, tipping him further towards the ground, and lands a volley of extra-hard smacks to his sit-spots and upper thighs, and that breaks the silence and Daniel hear as if from far away, his own desperate voice let loose with all of the “Ows” and “Sorries” and “Jacks!” that hitherto had been contained in his head. Just when he thinks he can’t take anymore, on the very edge of tears, the punishing hand stops falling and he hangs there, sniffling, waiting for Jack to gather him up into a hug.

Hands underneath him lift him up, but instead of turning him into a broad and welcoming chest, Jack moves him to the end of the couch and stands him there. One hand leaves Daniel’s arm and instead gently grabs his chin, and lifts it; Daniel blinks into Jack’s frown in utter bewilderment; his vision is a little blurry swimming with the tears he hasn’t shed. For a moment the other man says nothing, merely seeming to search Daniel’s face, and then he grimaces as he comes to some sort of decision, and even before he speaks Danny can feel his stomach turn over unpleasantly. “We’re not done. We would have been, but we’ve talked about you putting yourself in extra danger because you were mad at me before.”

Jack leaves him standing there, baffled, and walks briskly into the kitchen. Oh, OH! It hits him just before he walks back into the living room with the spoon in hand, and it feels like his stomach abandons him, and he realizes he’s taken a step back, but Jack just grabs his arm again. Rather than sitting down and trying to get situated again, Daniel finds himself bent over the arm of the couch, Jack’s hand hot and heavy on the skin of his back where his shirt has slid down towards his armpits from the sharp angle his body is folded at.

“AH! Owwww!” The spoon falls on the crest of each cheek in quick succession, unbearably sharp. The tears that had started to dissipate while he was standing up spring back into his eyes. The spoon falls again, a smack on each side, and he cries out and throws his hand back, but Jack is fast and grabs his wrist in the hand resting on Daniel’s back and lands the spoon again, working his way down to the tenderest parts of his already burning rear.

“Every time you risk your life when you don’t have to, we’re going to end up back here.” Jack’s voice washes over him, deadly serious. “I’ll give you little spankings for the guilt for the rest of our lives if that’s what you need, Danny, but being reckless is always going to get you in over your head. I understand our jobs are never going to be safe, but I am _not_ going to stand by and watch you die for no reason.”

The quiet resolve and emotion in Jack’s voice push him over the edge, at the exact same time as Jack lands the spoon once more on each sit-spot and then throws the implement in the general direction of the kitchen and yanks Daniel up off the arm of the couch, folding him into his arms. Daniel buries his face in the fabric of Jack’s shirt and wraps his arms around his waist, just wanting now to cling as he lets the tears wash away the guilt and the grief and the fear. Jack is warmth and safety and everything he never quite had since his parents died, and the best friend Daniel has ever known. He feels sorry for people who take Jack at face value and don’t bother to look under the surface act he puts on.

At some point, he must doze, because when he surfaces, they’re propped up in Jack’s bed. Daniel’s still wrapped around Jack, and Jack’s hand is rubbing lazy circles on his back. Something is playing quietly behind Daniel (when he concentrates for a moment, he recognizes the voice of Homer Simpson), but Jack isn’t watching, because his eyes are closed.

“J’ck?” he mumbles, throat still feeling a little tight.

“Danny?” Brown eyes open, Jack’s hand wanders up to his head, and Daniel is warmed by an immediate smile.

“Sorry. Thanks. Won’t do it again.” Each word feels heavy in his mouth, almost as heavy as his eyelids, which threaten to slide closed on their own.

“Can’t live without you, Danny.” Jack murmurs, pressing a kiss to his hair, and Daniel sighs in agreement. Hands on his sides again, and Daniel is being slid off of Jack’s chest, laid out on his stomach next to him.

“J-ack,” it’s an objection, a whine, and he grabs half-heartedly at his colonel’s retreating figure.

“D-aniel,” Jack mimics, but with a smile in his voice. “I’m just going to change and I’ll be right back.”

“Good.” Daniel stretches, whines a little at the lingering burn when his underwear rubs his bottom and is just barely awake enough to wrap himself around Jack when he slides into bed beside him before he slips into a deep and nightmare-free sleep.


	13. The Serpent's Venom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's not much for Jack to do on a mission, so he spends it watching Daniel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode tag to S3E14 (“The Serpent’s Venom”). As always, any dialogue that feels pretty familiar probably came straight from the show. This chapter is mostly fluff.

After the Osiris debacle, Jack is disinclined to let Daniel get very far from SG-1. More specifically, from him. They go on a couple of inconsequential missions, and then Teal’c heads off to Chulak for a secret meeting with some other Jaffa leaders, and Sam finally achieves some personal time when Jacob comes to Earth on ‘vacation’. That leaves Jack and Daniel mostly at loose ends around the SGC; or, rather, it leaves Jack at mostly loose ends. Daniel has a never-ending backlog of translations and artifacts to look at. Jack always suspects that half of it is really someone else’s work (Daniel _does_ have an entire department at his disposal), but the three-PhD genius just can’t help himself and has fingers in every pie.

His own office is bare of anything personal, just the basic supplies and stacks and stacks of paperwork that theoretically he should be looking at as Hammond’s second-in-command. The General is incredibly lenient in how much he expects Jack to accomplish; guilt had once driven the colonel to ask him why, and George had told him in no uncertain terms that his value as the leader of SG-1 was infinitely higher than any help he could offer with the paperwork and day-to-day minutiae of running the base.

Jack does put in a lot of work helping design training and vetting personnel for the SGC, and reviewing missions that have gone wrong to make sure they can prevent the same issues from plaguing future teams. He knows Walter regularly comes in here and sorts the files, leaving the most important ones on top and center, and taking away things he doesn’t get to for other personnel to take care of. Today there was a small stack of mission reports with a bright post-it attached that indicated they were the most urgent thing, so that’s what Jack had grabbed and taken with him to Daniel’s office.

In contrast to Jack’s space which reflects how much he despises the idea of spending any real time there, Daniel’s office is crowded with books and papers and objects; every surface veritably drips with curiosity. The only two spaces that are clear on a regular basis are Daniel’s chair and the small couch where Jack usually works and where Daniel naps when not forced to find a real bed.

When the klaxons go off, Jack isn’t working. There’s a mission report open on his knee, but his eyes have been on Daniel for several minutes now. He gets a kick out of watching Daniel work; you can pretty much see every thought he has reflected in the archeologist’s mobile face as he studies a text or an artifact. The little frown when he’s thinking, an honest-to-god pout if he’s frustrated, wide eyes and hurried movements when he gets an idea, the smoothing and brightening of his whole expression when he figures something out or learns something new. Sometimes he mouths translations to himself, and sometimes he talks out loud, regardless of whether someone is in the room. Even better, he’s seldom aware of being watched, so Jack can observe to his heart’s content.

The klaxon doesn’t even get a twitch out of Daniel, so Jack closes the file and sets it down, his curiosity too strong to resist as he heads to the control room. There are no scheduled arrivals for this time, and no teams off-world that should be in situations that could have gone bad. That leaves Teal’c, or something unexpected.

Of course, it couldn’t have been Teal’c coming home so they could get back on the mission roster. In the colonel’s opinion, it’s the opposite of good when they determine it’s a Tok’ra transmission because the history of uneventful missions with the Tok’ra is so very poor. Still, he does like and respect Jake, so he tries to keep his obvious distaste to himself. Jacob listens to the transmission as it’s recorded onto a handheld device and then turns to Jack. “I think we’re going to need Daniel.”

It’s easiest just for the three of them – Jacob, Sam, and Jack (or is that the four of them, with Selmak? Jack’s never sure) – to trek up the several floors to Daniel’s lab, where absolutely nobody is surprised to find him still engrossed in his work, unaware that Jack ever left. Jacob plays the recording back for Daniel, leaving Jack and Sam to stand around and wait for a translation. Oh, great, it’s their friend Apophis again, because the guy just won’t _die._ If forced to rate the Goa’uld on some sort of sliding scale of how much he hates them, Jack would put Apophis pretty high on the list both because he keeps annoyingly not dying but also because of everything he has personally cost SG-1.

His mind is wandering as Daniel does his near-magic translation-on-the-fly thing, but he’s brought firmly back to the present when Selmak asks Daniel to accompany him on this mission he’s concocting.

“Acht! Wait a minute! Just…stop, hold it.” He moves, making sure to position himself in between the Tok’ra and Daniel in a way that even the densest ancient snake couldn’t fail to miss as completely purposeful. “If you’re about to say you’re going to explain along the way, I’m going to lose it! I’ve just about had it with the way the Tok’ra do business. I wanna know exactly what we’re dealing with here. Every mission detail you’ve got right now, or we go nowhere!”

Some of the rigidness leaves the older man’s body, which is the only sign that Selmak has retreated before he opens his mouth and Jacob’s voice comes out. “I was going to tell ya, Jack.” There’s only the slightest hint of irritation in the former general’s words – mostly, Jack knows, Jake appreciates how protective Jack is of his team. Not only because of Sam, either – Jake has a mile-wide soft spot for Daniel too. Even when things have been at their most strained during joint missions, SG-1’s civilian has never heard the sharp side of Jake’s tongue like the rest of them have.

Jack backs down, and they move to the briefing room to bring the General up to speed. They’ve laid out the facts and the goals for the SGC’s commander, and Jacob makes a formal request for Daniel and Sam to accompany him. Jack manages not to say anything rude, confining himself to a very pointed clearing of his throat, and gets his own invitation.

Which is just peachy, because he’s not about to let Jacob take Sam and Daniel off on some crazy Tok’ra mission into an abandoned minefield without him. Jack would prefer _none_ of them to go, but if the science twins are going, he’s going too. He’d rather have Teal’c there as an additional backup, but their Jaffa teammate hasn’t returned or checked in yet, and the timing is critical.

They head to the locker rooms to get geared up, and since he’s done first by far Jack takes his pack to the armory and supply rooms to switch some things out and replenish consumables. It’s a quick task and Sam and Jake are waiting by the elevator when he gets back – but no sign of Daniel. Jack makes a face at Sam. “Where is he?” Sam doesn't have to guess who he's talking about, and she smiles just a little. 

“He’s on 18.” They step into the elevator and she pushes the button to go up towards the surface. When the doors open on level 18, they look out on a certain linguist crouched in the hallway, trying to shuffle more books into several already overstuffed bags. Jack wordlessly gestures for Sam to hold the elevator and stalks over.

“What _are_ you doing?”

Danny looks up at him, a little red-faced from the struggle and frowning. “I could use a hand here,” he says as he clips the bag in his hands shut. Jack reaches down and grabs the biggest one, leaving Daniel to put on his pack and then hoist the other bag bulging with corners.

“Sure you got everything?” He drops the heavy bag on the floor of the elevator, where it makes his point nicely with a loud thud. Daniel looks up at him, still flushed and glasses sliding down his nose because he doesn’t have a free hand to catch them.

“Wanna try to reprogram that mine without the proper translation?” he retorts.

“Thought of a laptop?” For that matter, he's well aware that Daniel _has_ a laptop; sometimes he brings it home with him and Jack finds him working in the wee hours of the morning, hours after Jack thought they'd both gone to sleep.

“Well,” Daniel drawls, and Jack just knows from the tone that he’s going to be a complete smartass. “I have one. I just couldn’t get ‘Beck’s Ancient Phoenician Symbology’ on CD at archaeology.com, so….”

Jack’s favorite way to silence a sarcastic Daniel, recently discovered, is by kissing him. It doesn’t help right this minute that Daniel is standing inches from him, scowling in a way that completely fails to be intimidating. He’s grateful that Jacob and Sam are also in the elevator, or he might not have the self-control to stick to their nothing-happens-on-base rule. Still, any touch will probably startle Danny into silence…Jack reaches out with his free hand and slowly pushes Daniel’s glasses back up into his face, swallowing a smirk when his partner’s pupils go wide and his mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Point to Colonel Jack O’Neill.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Jack wishes that he’d grabbed some of the growing stacks of paperwork on his desk and brought them along. Jacob is piloting the scout ship with absolutely no need for help from Jack, and the two blonde heads of his teammates are bent over books from the small library Daniel has brought aboard. Sam has what is obviously the equivalent of “Phoenician for Dummies” open and is slowly but steadily working her way through.

Daniel is sitting against the opposite wall, books spread around him like a paper halo. Most of them are open already to various points and he’s moving his lips silently again, taking quick notes in a handwriting Jack knows as well as his own. He can picture the neat, dark, cramped letters in his mind even though he can’t see it from here. Daniel doesn’t waste paper in his leather-bound notebooks either, covering each page from edge to edge, even bringing words tight into sketches of artifacts to make sure every available blank space has information on it. His writing is bigger, looser, but just as deliberate when he’s writing casual notes at home or on his whiteboards.

The artificial light of the scout ship reflects off of his tousled hair, making it almost as gold as the walls. Jack wants to be able to sit down next to Daniel and listen to each of his breaths as he works. He wants to be able to pull Daniel back against his chest, where he can feel each heartbeat as he waits and watches Danny’s mind go places the rest of them can’t hope to keep up. He wants to run his hands through those gilded strands of hair that he knows very well are soft and smell like Jack’s own shampoo and usually the faint scent of leather and old books. He wants to distract Daniel from his work and…persuade…him to take a nap because he knows how few hours the man had slept the night before.

He can’t do any of those things, not even in front of two of the people that he and Danny trust the most, so Jack grasps at any other distraction, leaning over Sam to glance at her text, which while written mostly in good plain English has enough Phoenician symbols on each page that his eyes threaten to cross. “Do you understand any of that?”

Sam turns a page, glancing at him over her shoulder. She laughs at the disgruntled expression on his face and grins. “It’s all Phoenician to me, Sir.”

Jack just groans.

* * *

Everything goes sideways, but when doesn’t it? They can’t count the mission as a success, since they didn’t accomplish sending Heru’ur and Apophis to war. If the Tok’ra are to be believed, they’ve instead solidified Apophosis’ place as the strongest Goa’uld in the galaxy. A part of Jack _wants_ the bastard to come after Earth, so they can have another chance at destroying him once and for all.

However, nobody dies. They don’t get captured or tortured or snaked, and the most danger they ever really face is from the mine itself, which of course stood no chance against Sam and Daniel. Jack thinks that must be a kind of success, on this type of insane mission. He’s also more than a little smug, because his geeks have succeeded where Selmak has admitted the Tok’ra had failed, and he can’t help but rub that in a little when they debrief for Hammond. Even thousands of years of experience can't catch the Tok'ra up to Major Samantha Carter and Doctor Daniel Jackson, the finest Earth has to offer.

They even pull off a rescue of a man nobody knew was missing, retrieving Teal’c from Rak’nor and sending the younger Jaffa back on his way to Chulak in the glider. That bothers Jack more than a little, that Teal’c could simply vanish from Chulak and nobody be the wiser until he showed up in the middle of a Goa’uld negotiation they intended to tank. He wants an alliance of free Jaffa at their back in the fight against the snakeheads as much as anyone, but he resolves to talk to Teal’c about taking more precautions in the future.

But what he wants most of all is to escape the confines of the SGC and act on every thought he’s had this very, very long day about his favorite geek. Daniel, of course, had retreated almost immediately back to his lab when Jack stayed behind to speak to Hammond, and as Jack enters the elevator he’s expecting to have to go drag the kid out of the SGC by force. The elevator comes to a soft stop on floor 18 and the doors open, and Jack blinks in surprise because Daniel is standing there, already changed into civvies, backpack slung over one shoulder.

After a day of watching him frown his way through a complicated puzzle, Danny’s smile brightens the whole damn complex. “Home, Jack?” He is swallowing hard on a rush of emotion, so he just reaches out and drags his partner into the elevator and jabs the button for the ground level.


	14. Chain Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which SG-1 leans exactly how much they loved General Hammond, and that he's irreplaceable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode tag to S4E15 ("Chain Reaction"). This chapter brings us Daniel's feelings instead of Jack's for once.

At first, Daniel was inclined to let the General go gracefully. It isn’t that he doesn’t agree with Jack that the timing and circumstances are suspect, it’s just that he’s not sure the General owes them an explanation. Maybe he is burned out on the daily spectacle that is life as the commander of Stargate Command. He’s not a young man, and he has a family he doesn’t get to spend nearly enough time with because he’s constantly pulling SG teams (and the world) out of the fire. A new commander on base will be an adjustment, but he’s optimistic that they’ll find someone competent that they can all come to respect as much as George Hammond, even if they don’t love him like the man who has commanded the Stargate for five years now since it went back into operation.

That fragile hope takes a pretty big dent, if Daniel’s honest, by the way the man introduces himself; or, rather, doesn’t. But not everyone has the same leadership style, and what matters is if he’ll manage to keep them supported and safe in the field, and run interference at home with the politicians who just don’t understand the value of the Stargate Program. Morale might suffer a little from lack of inspiration, but the team leaders are generally an encouraging group, and Jack can be pretty inspirational when he wants to be, so someone else can pick up that slack.

The first official thing their new commander does is dismantle SG-1, without even consulting with Jack, and that’s the point at which Daniel knows that either Jack is going to get court-martialed, or this guy isn’t going to last long here. Colonel Jack O’Neill isn’t just the leader of SG-1, he’s the second in command of the whole base, and despite being military to the core, he’s always been a little bit of a wild card. It’s what made him good at black ops, and the challenges they’ve faced since the first trip to Abydos haven’t made him better at blindly following orders.

“Jack.” Calm down, Jack.

“Daniel.” The colonel’s teeth are gritted; he’s pissed. Daniel’s angry too (‘an archaeologist has no place on a front-line unit’ is still ringing in his head; it’s as if Bauer has never read any of SG-1’s mission reports, not to mention an archaeologist might not have a place on the front lines but his qualifications in languages are a very different story), but not as mad as Jack is.

“Jack!” Daniel physically moves to stand in the doorway, shooting Sam an I-told-you-so look. This is why he’d insisted on getting Jack into one of the most private places on the base, his own quarters, before telling him about General Bauer’s pronouncement. Jack usually goes for the sarcastic wit and dry humor, a quiet sort of mad, but some things are just enough to push him into temper territory, and this is one of them.

“Damn it, Daniel, you’re acting like you want to be reassigned!”

“No, Jack,” he keeps his voice quiet and measured, refusing to rise to the bait. O’Neill handling 101: if you start yelling too, you lose. “I definitely don’t want SG-1 split up, and if I wanted a desk job, I would have made the move ages ago.”

Sam, sensing an opening, jumps in to help. “Sir, General Bauer doesn’t know you…er…us like General Hammond did. He might need a more… diplomatic approach, Sir.”

“Are you saying I can’t be diplomatic, Major?” Jack’s still glowering, but that’s not really a dangerous tone of voice. Daniel relaxes in the doorway, pressing his shoulder into the frame and breathing a sigh of relief.

“Of course not, Sir.” Daniel ducks his head to hide a smirk; Jack often complains about Daniel’s utter disregard for the formalities of military life and chain of command, but he’s never met someone who can do perfect protocol with as much attitude as Sam. “Just suggesting it might be best to handle the new General with extra care until we get to know him.”

“Fine. Kid gloves for the new boss. I’ll keep that in mind.” He strides over to Daniel, who doesn’t move right away, looking up into Jack’s face. Jack’s standing very close – closer than he’d ever have stood if they were anywhere else on base – and there’s something still very tense about him, but after a moment of studying his expression, Daniel is pretty sure he can handle a meeting with Bauer without flying off the handle.

“Daniel?”

“Jack?”

“Can I go now?”

“Sure, Jack.”

* * *

Apparently, he shouldn’t have let himself be lulled into complacency. Possibly he needs to revisit basic training in handling air force colonels. Jack’s in with the new General for all of five minutes and manages to get himself an unofficial suspension. “What happened to ‘kid gloves for the new boss’, Jack?” They’re in the locker room, where Jack is shoving things into his duffle. He’s already changed out of his BDUs and slams the door on his locker hard enough that Daniel jumps a little.

“Time for plan B.”

“Super. What is plan B, exactly?” Daniel tilts his head. “Get a second retirement with a fun new disciplinary record?”

“Don’t give me that crap Daniel, it’s clear the man isn’t right for this program. SG-1 works, and only an idiot goes around changing up teams on the first day.”

“So what is plan B, Jack?”

Swinging the bag over his shoulder, Jack sighs and runs a hand down his face, lowering his voice as he walks over to Daniel. “I’m going to start by trying to talk some sense into Hammond. If he won’t come back, maybe he can at least pull some strings to get us a competent commander.”

Because he knows he’s hidden from the view of any security cameras by Jack’s body in front of him, and because he knows Jack is pretty worked up, Daniel reaches out and lays a hand flat on his partner’s chest, where Jack is warm even through his t-shirt. He wants to say, ‘see you at home’, but he can’t say that, so he settles for, “Let me know how it goes.”

“Sure thing, Danny.” The colonel smiles at him, the kind of expression that might have been something else at home, and then he’s off.

* * *

When he leaves the base, Jack hasn’t called. Daniel’s mind is on some of the other changes Bauer has already made around the base, and he drives to his apartment on autopilot. It only takes a few minutes to feed his fish and get his mail, and then he’s at loose ends. He considers heading over to wait at Jack’s, but that feels incautious right now. If Bauer isn’t just an idiot, he might be an NID plant or something, and in that case actively looking for reasons to get rid of SG-1. Daniel’s fairly safe as a civilian contractor, but Jack and Sam and Teal’c are in positions more precarious.

He’s managed to get lost in a translation when his phone rings, and he flips it open absently, tucking it between his hear and his shoulder. “Daniel Jackson.”

“Hey, you wanna do some stargazing tonight?”

“Jack.” He shoves the tome away and tries not to let his sigh of relief echo down the line. A glance up at the clock says it’s 8:30. Time got away from him. “Feed me, and you have a deal.”

“Peachy. See you in a few.”

Daniel opens his mouth but shuts it again because Jack already hung up. Shrugging into his jacket, he gets in his car and makes the short trip to Jack’s house. He doesn’t bother going inside, quickly scaling the ladder up to the telescope platform, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. It’s in what Jack hadn’t said – he hadn’t specifically said ‘come to my place’. And he had purposefully indicated that Daniel should go right up to the roof, which was the place in his house least likely to be surveilled. He’s dragged the portable stereo up here again too, and there are strains of opera drifting in the air. Something about his visit with Hammond has Jack spooked.

The man himself isn’t on the roof, but there are two bottles of beer so Danny takes one and settles into his chair, looking out into the multihued sunset. He doesn’t have to wait long before Jack climbs over the top of the ladder and comes over to sit down, offering Daniel a plate. He accepts it and pokes at the meal offering – baked potato and some salad, but Jack’s prepared the tuber with all of Daniel’s favorite toppings. Daniel pulls his legs up into the chair and digs in, glancing over at his best friend as he does. “What’s up?”

“George is being blackmailed by the NID. They threatened his granddaughters.”

“Oh, god.” Suddenly, Daniel isn’t so hungry. His mouthful of potato feels like a lump of clay going down his threat. “Jack…”

“I have a plan, but you’re not going to like it.”

He’s right, of course, Daniel hates the whole idea, but he doesn’t have a better one to suggest. Danny doesn’t want Jack to go off on any sort of mission alone, much less a black-ops-eque one with someone none of them trust. Unfortunately, Jack can pretend to be taking the time the General suggested to get his head on straight, but if any of the rest of SG-1 don’t go to work, the NID could quickly get suspicious. So he sends Jack off to play super-spies with Maybourne and goes to work, trying to ignore the anxiety coiling in his gut.

* * *

Before the end of the day, General Bauer sends a group to P3S-452 despite Sam’s objections, and Major Waite dies. Teal’c, who knows the dangers of their galaxy far better than anyone else in the Stargate program, retreats into his room and claims to be kelno’reem-ing. The first time Daniel knocks Teal’c ignores him, but the second time Daniel wanders by and tries again he invites him inside. He sinks cross-legged to the floor across from Teal’c, looking at his grim expression through the flickering candlelight.

“Major Waite’s death wasn’t your fault,” he starts, hesitantly.

“I know it was not,” Teal’c responds, firmly, but over the years Daniel has finally started to be able to read Teal’c’s expressions and there’s something there that tells him maybe his friend is lying. “I believe Major Carter, Major Waite, and I all cautioned General Bauer against this course of action to no avail.”

“Lieutenant Morrison’s going to be fine, and should get full use of his leg back.” Teal’c hadn’t waited to see what Janet thought of his new teammate’s injury before retreating to his quarters, but he gives a deep nod now, looking slightly less tense.

“That is, indeed, good news.”

“Bauer’s a moron, but we just need to minimize the damage he can cause. I don’t think he’ll be here very long. Jack’s working on it.”

* * *

He spends some time sitting with Teal’c because the familiar ritual of meditating while the other man kelno’reems has become something he quite enjoys. He’s never been one for silent meditation by himself (he much prefers a good book or project in his hands to muse on) but doing it with Teal’c is actually very freeing. He forces down some of the worry at having not heard from Jack yet, and after about a half an hour he feels much calmer and quietly lets himself out of the room.

Back in his office, he’s startled to find Sam pacing like a caged creature. Her hair is a little disheveled (he wonders if she even went home last night, or if she worked on the General’s new project all night?) and she’s frowning, arms crossed over her chest.

“Sam?” He pulls the door closed behind himself and hits play on the radio, turning the volume up past anything he would normally play it at, and then draws Sam down on the couch, with her back to the camera.

“SG-3 brought back enough refined naquadah to get the bomb operational.”

She sounds exhausted and resigned, but to be honest, Daniel wasn’t paying attention to that bit of Bauer’s spiel and so he’s not sure exactly what Sam is building.

“And that’s bad?” he asks, cautious, “I thought we were focusing on playing along for now.”

“He wants it tested. Today. On a planet with plant and animal life.” She drops her head into her hands and moans. “We have no idea how destructive it’s going to be. For all we know, it might destroy the planet entirely. He won’t even let me run simulations beforehand.”

The implications of that make his head hurt. They make his heart hurt too – that’s so against his principles; he won’t be able to stay here with this man in charge. If Jack is unsuccessful, Daniel will have to leave the Stargate program, and nowadays, he doesn’t know what he would be without it. Sam’s face is still in her hands so he reaches forward and puts an arm around her shoulders.

“You don’t have any choice right now but to follow his orders and try to minimize the damage.” He feels like he just had this conversation with Teal’c. McKenzie might have to start pulling his weight around the SGC with Hammond gone – their former commander had very, very rarely issued orders that required his officers to compromise their beliefs, but this new guy seems to have no such qualms. He lowers his voice to a whisper and leans in to give Sam a hug as if they were discussing something ordinary but depressing. “Jack’s working on it.”

Sam goes to give Bauer what he thinks he wants, feeling a little better, and Daniel tries to get some work done as he waits to hear from Jack. When the phone finally rings, he picks it up and curses the NID. This is a secure line in and out of the SGC – if this was almost any other situation, he’d be able to speak freely. But because they have no idea how deep the NID has gotten into the Stargate system, they have to dance around the issue.

“Yeah, Daniel. How are things at camp?” Jack sounds unharmed, at least, which is better than they can say for the SGC at this point.

“Erm, not good. General Bauer's testing his new naquadah bomb. He's taking shortcuts which Sam thinks could be disastrous.” Daniel completely leaves off the bit about SG-3 and losing Waite, because he doesn’t think that knowledge is something Jack needs right now.

“Well, Maybourne claims he doesn't know whether Bauer's in with NID or just a gung-ho patsy.” This doesn’t sound very discrete to Daniel, but he supposes if Jack succeeded in springing Maybourne from prison, his colonel is assuming NID is already on their trail.

“Yeah, well, either way, he's dangerous.” Briefly, he reconsiders telling Jack about Waite, but he doesn’t need to be distracted from keeping Maybourne in line and evading the NID at the same time, so Daniel chokes it back.

“Well hang in there, do what you can. I'll check back.” Jack hangs up, and Daniel just looks at the phone for a while, before gently setting it down. They just have to wait for Jack to do whatever Jack can do on his end. Meanwhile, something catches his eye on the map in front of him, and he quickly grabs it off the table. On his way to the control room, he grabs Teal’c; this could be what Sam needs to put an end to the bomb testing, but Daniel wants as much backup as he can get with Jack so far away.

* * *

Daniel has no idea whether Bauer is just an overconfident idiot (a “gung-ho patsy”, as Jack had put it) or if he was just acting under orders from someone else that didn’t involve listening to his foremost experts, but despite Sam’s fervent protests, the General launches the bomb and it all goes to hell. He and Teal’c follow Sam to the security station as the rest of the base starts to evacuate; there’s probably nothing he can do in this situation but he can support Sam. As worried as he is about Jack, now he’s just as worried about Sam, who would not hesitate to go down trying to fix this ship.

He doesn’t even let himself think about the fact that if they autodestruct the base, they won’t have a Stargate to come back to, even if Jack succeeds. He doesn’t let himself think about how Teal’c must feel knowing he will be trapped on Earth, unable to see his family or fight the Goa’uld alongside the Tau’ri.

They all breathe a sigh of utmost relief when the gate deactivates and walk away without even acknowledging Bauer’s apology or his rank. Someone who can almost blow up the whole program on day one doesn’t deserve their regard.

* * *

When Jack calls, Daniel is able to smile at Sam and Teal’c and tell them their leader was successful in getting Hammond reinstated. They don’t bother going home, instead staying at the base to help run damage control after the aborted evac and self-destruct, not to mention a destroyed planet, a bomb, and a damaged iris.

He’s able to take his first deep breath in more than a day when Jack arrives back on base to relieve Bauer of duty, unharmed and seeming quite pleased with himself, though there’s an edginess that suggests he isn’t one hundred percent happy with some of what he had to do, and it will probably take months to pry that information out of him.

Daniel doesn’t fully relax, though, until the very early hours of the morning when he walks past the airman arranging Hammond’s office back into its former state, rehanging diplomas and medals and certificates and pictures of the General’s family. That’s when he finally lets himself go back to his office, where Jack is passed out on the couch, and smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did this super short chapter take so long? Because I was actually trying to be done with the story that goes with S4E16 to be posted at the same time, and _it's_ over 10,000 words. (Oops?) That one is located in the next story in this series, because as an alternate-timeline story it wouldn't fit into this story's flow. But if this chapter left you less than satisfied, go try that instead. ;) And I'll be back with the next chapter of this story hopefully this weekend. https://archiveofourown.org/works/25300693/chapters/61342459


	15. The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daniel dies, again, but thankfully it doesn't stick, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO SORRY about the wait for this chapter. Lots of stuff happened all at once in my life, and I didn't want to rush it because I had a pretty solid mental idea of where I wanted it to go and wanted to try and capture Jack's many feelings. Hopefully I succeeded and it was worth the wait. 
> 
> As always, anything you recognize dialog-wise probably got pulled straight from the episodes, and I’ve built up around it. Episode summaries for the two big episodes it tags to are in the end notes.

The paperwork never seems to end, Jack bemoans, scanning and signing another requisition form and sorting it into the correct pile. The knock at the door is more than welcome, and he lets his pen fall to the desk as he looks up. “Carter – come in."

“Sir.” She walks over and glances down at the mess on his desk, and although her lips twitch in a little smile she can’t quite hide, she doesn’t comment on it. “Are you busy?”

His gaze flickers to the remaining paperwork in distaste, but he really shouldn’t keep putting it off forever. “Unless you have something more important for me to do, Carter, I really am.” Sam’s gaze skitters away to the door, and she hesitates in a way that makes her whole body look uncomfortable. Jack waits a moment and then drawls, “Spit it out, Major.”

“Sir, I think maybe you should go check on Daniel.”

Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it. Of course, he isn’t sure why _not_ ; Daniel’s not been himself since Shifu was on base, and though he wasn’t close to Barber, any death in the SGC tends to hit their boy hard. Still, he’d seemed fine earlier. Frustrated about not having solved this puzzle yet, but nothing more. All of this runs through his mind, and he considers cracking a joke, but it dies in his mouth at the serious look on Sam’s face. “Sure,” the agreement comes quickly, and he efficiently taps the papers remaining un-finished into a single file and heads for level 18, noting warily that Sam chooses to go the opposite way.

Daniel is pacing like a caged tiger, while Teal’c sits quietly in front of his computer monitor. Keeping his body language as casual as possible, but well aware of his teammate’s anxious movement out of the corner of his eye, he meanders over to Teal’c. “Hey. What’re you watching?”

“A digital image.” Teal’c also glances at Daniel but shows no outward sign of concern. “I am endeavoring to translate the Goa’uld writings of which Daniel Jackson had spoken.”

“How goes the endeavoring?” Daniel seems almost unaware of their presence, reading and muttering while he paces with a book in one hand and his device in the other.

“Upon a second viewing, I have discovered a figure moving in the background.” Teal’c cues up the relevant seconds of video, so that Jack can see it. “It does not appear to be one of our personnel.”

“He never mentioned anyone else.” There’s a curse, and a loud slamming noise, and Jack and Teal’c both look over at Daniel, who has slammed the reference text onto his desk and is staring at the hand device like it’s just announced the world is flat.

“What is wrong with this thing?” Daniel looks up, locking onto Jack as if noticing him for the first time, “This thing isn’t working.”

Jack knows now why Sam had sent him up here, but he’s still hoping it’ll be easy to pull Daniel out of this funk. He tries to lighten the mood with, “Did you check the batteries?”

Daniel doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even smile. He just deepens his frown and looks at Jack intently, but his mind is somewhere else. “I need to go back to the planet and figure out what’s going on.”

“Hammond suggested we do that tomorrow.” Jack steps towards him, placating, but Daniel holds up the device between them with a scowl.

“Well, this thing isn’t working, and tomorrow isn’t good enough.”

Humor didn’t work. Jack tries his commanding officer voice instead, frowning back at Daniel and lowering his eyebrows into a frown to match the glower on Daniel’s face. “Yes, it is.”

“I’m going to talk to Hammond.” Daniel pushes past him as if Jack had never spoken.

“Hey!” He yells, but the archaeologist is already gone. Daniel has never been one for the military chain-of-command, but Jack is still shocked by this behavior. There’s a line between disregard for chain-of-command and outright disrespect, and it’s not the first time he remembers Daniel throwing himself bodily over it, but it’s the first time it’s been for something so minor. Unwilling to get into a physical altercation with Daniel in the hallways for everyone to see, he has no other choice but to follow Daniel to the General’s office, and hope that the younger man’s attitude towards him doesn’t carry over to Hammond.

No such luck. The General welcomes Daniel into his office and Jack follows without bothering to wait for an invitation, leaning up against the wall. Hammond sends a sharp look in his direction, but his attention is quickly caught and held by the irate civilian leaning over his desk. Daniel makes his case, briskly but just barely on the right side of civil, and Jack can see the wheels turning in his CO’s head.

If this had been any of the soldiers on this base, he does not doubt that Hammond would have dressed them down so sharply they were still hearing his words ringing in their ears next month; but this is Daniel, everyone’s favorite scientist, and the General is no exception. He goes the concerned and caring route first, but that just serves to rile Daniel up further.

“You're scheduled to leave tomorrow morning.” The General might have been persuaded by Daniel’s usual approach, with the polite earnestness, but this confrontational stance hasn’t won their boy any points. Hammond’s voice is firm when he says, “One more day isn't going to make a difference.”

“I'm telling you it is.” Jack sees the way Daniel’s whole body has gone tense, nearly shaking in place, and he pushes off of the wall at the linguist’s hissed words, suddenly quite sure that whatever is going on here, Daniel has lost all sense of self-preservation.

“Thank you for your time, Sir.” He starts to reach for Daniel, trying to physically insert himself into the other man’s space and get his attention, so that maybe he doesn’t do or say anything else. Even Hammond’s patience has its limit. Jack doesn’t move fast enough. 

“You know, it is beyond my comprehension how anybody like yourself who has so much power can miss the point entirely.” Daniel leans over the desk, knuckles white, and voice cold.

“Hey,” Jack raises his voice, in total disbelief at his partner’s behavior, and steps again towards Daniel, ready to physically pull him away from the General’s desk. He has never, not in years now since they stepped off onto this new path together, actually _wanted_ to start smacking Daniel’s backside as much as he does right that minute. Whatever’s going on, Daniel needs a swift reality check. “Knock it off!”

“It's all right, Colonel.” Hammond glances at him swiftly, warning him off of anything physical. When he turns back to Daniel, his voice is low and uncompromising. “This letter is to Lieutenant Barber's family explaining that he died in the service of his country. I've spent the last two hours on it. I can't tell them anything about how he died or anything about the work he did here, only that he's gone. Do you get the point?”

“Yes, Sir, he does,” Jack replies when Daniel says nothing; he’s not sure that’s true, but when he gets done with his partner, Danny will understand quite a few things he doesn’t seem to understand right this minute.

George nods, sitting back in his seat. “Get him out of here.”

Seething, Jack is ready to grab Daniel and drag him someplace private for a very much less than friendly chat, but he misses his chance when Daniel spins around and takes off on his own. He hesitates, glancing back at the General, but Hammond just wearily nods him after Daniel. The archaeologist is already out of sight, but he’s never left the base voluntarily in his uniform and Jack doesn’t think he’ll start today, so he just takes the quickest route to the locker room.

He swings the door open and a quick glance reveals that the room is empty but for Daniel; he walks in and locks the door behind himself, ensuring them at least a small amount of privacy. He takes a deep breath, fighting down his frustration before approaching Daniel’s locker, where his maddening best friend is shoving himself into civilian clothes with single-minded determination, not looking up even at the clear sound of Jack’s approach. “What the hell was that?” Jack demands, keeping his hands to himself by sheer force of will.

“What was what?” The terse reply is somewhat muffled because Daniel doesn’t even look at him, reaching instead into his locker to hang up his BDU jacket and grab his shoes, using them as an excuse to walk away from Jack and sit down to shove his feet in and do up the laces.

“You know what. Your… _temper tantrum_ …in Hammond’s office.”

“Maybe I’m just tired of non-weapon discoveries getting the short stick around here.” He doesn’t look up.

“You’ve had a hundred discoveries just as important or more so, that got left behind, so don’t even try to feed me that crap,” Jack growls. “I haven’t ever heard you speak to the General like that, and for good reason since you respect the man as much as I do. I’ve never wanted to wallop you more in all the time we’ve known each other, and I think Hammond would have let me. What do you even have to say for yourself?”

For just a moment, there’s a flicker of hesitation and, Jack thinks, shame in Daniel’s expressive eyes but just as quickly he runs a hand over his face and it’s gone, and he draws himself up to his full height and takes immense affront to Jack’s threat. “Go to hell, Jack.”

He starts to turn away, but two big steps close the distance between them and Jack grabs his arms and swings him back around, equal parts now pissed off and seriously concerned. “Hey! What is wrong with you?” The same minute flicker of confused vulnerability passes over the scientist’s face and Jack’s anger takes a back burner to disquiet and he frowns down at him. “Danny, if there’s something wrong, just let us help you.”

“I…Jack, I’m sorry.” One shoulder shrugs expressively and Daniel looks down and away, but he relaxes a little and leans into Jack’s hold. “Maybe the General is right. Maybe I’m exhausted. I’ll just go home and sleep it off.”

“Let me change, and I’ll drive.” Jack gentles his grip on Daniel’s arms and tries for just a tiny smile, but his partner shakes his head.

“I’m going to go to my apartment. I need the space by myself to think. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Very, very reluctantly Jack agrees and as soon as he lets go, Daniel unlocks the door and slides out without another word, leaving Jack feeling conflicted and confused.

* * *

But Daniel hadn’t shown up at the SGC in the morning, which is why instead of leaving to go see this mysterious alien artifact that had him so worked up the day before, Jack is taking the stairs two at a time up to Daniel’s floor, scowling and wondering if he should have just made good on his thoughts and threats yesterday, followed Daniel home, and insisted they ‘discuss’ his behavior to clear the slate for moving forward. He’d been being entirely facetious the day before when he quipped about Hammond being annoyed enough to turn a blind eye to Jack meting out what at this point seems like a much-needed spanking, but the look in the General’s eyes this morning made the colonel wonder if his CO didn’t occasionally wonder at the efficacy of the disciplinary methods used by the Osparians after all.

Striding up to Daniel’s door, he’s already reaching into his pocket for his keys, not intending to give Daniel any opportunity to deny him entry, but he checks his stride when he looks up to see the door is already cracked open. Slowing, he looks around automatically but nothing else in the hall is out of place. The door swings open at the lightest touch and he slowly enters the apartment, noting as he swings the door mostly shut behind himself that there doesn’t appear to be any signs of forced entry.

“Daniel?” He calls, receiving no response except the insistent beep of the phone which has been left off of the hook, Daniel’s glasses and keys next to it as if he’d stopped to answer the phone on his way out the door. Jack remember Sam saying that Daniel had answered her call this morning; at the time they’d all assumed that he really had been just that exhausted and overslept, and possibly just decided to rush on to work instead of speaking to her further.

But, Daniel’s car was in its spot on the street, and while Jack could easily see him forgetting his keys and failing to make sure his door closed properly, he would never have walked out without his glasses. Unease settles heavily in his gut, and he walks further into the apartment, noting the half-eaten apple on the table and the kettle still whistling on the stove, but no sign of his wayward archaeologist.

Turning towards the rest of the apartment, he’s already noted the breeze coming from the open balcony doors, and so he moves very slowly in that direction, glancing into the bedroom before going to the open doors. Nothing else in the apartment seems out of place – no signs of a struggle or anything other than Daniel’s normal morning routines. If someone took him out of this apartment, it was someone he knew or they had the element of surprise.

His stomach drops when he finally looks out onto the balcony and finds him, and he freezes in the doorway, feeling cold. “Daniel?” He doesn’t dare move forward, for fear that his approach will startle the man standing on the wrong side of the railing, mentally already calculating the distance to the ground. “What are you doing out here?” Stupid, stupid question but it’s all he can think of in that first heart-stopping minute.

Daniel doesn’t look around, and he has to strain to hear the quiet words that are offered in response to his question; “None of it means anything.”

“Um,” Jack swallows hard, and very carefully and slowly steps out onto the balcony. He wants to rush forward and grab him, dragging him back into the safe apartment, but he makes himself stop after one step to evaluate whether he can get closer without Daniel doing anything rash. “Daniel, why don’t you come inside?” Silently, he calculates how fast he can reach the railing and grab Daniel, even while his inner voice curses him for everything from allowing Danny to leave the SGC the day before in such a weird mood to not bringing Sam with him this morning to not calling for backup the minute he saw the door was open.

“I tried,” Daniel murmurs as he sways in a way that makes Jack’s heart clench, and in a voice that he can hear is full of tears. “It just….goes away.”

“Okay.” That doesn’t make any sense, but even Jack knows now isn’t the time to ask for clarification. “Well, we’ll, uh, we’ll get it back.”

“You can’t get it _back_.”

“Whatever’s wrong, we’ll…we’ll fix it.” It doesn’t matter right now what that is; Jack would promise literally anything including his own life to get Daniel off of the ledge, and he’d follow through no matter what it was he promised. Unfortunately, he has no idea how they have gotten here – yes, Daniel has been out of sorts since the Harsesis child came back into their lives but _nothing_ that suggested something like this.

Daniel’s head drops to his chest and Jack’s heart leaps into his throat, but the linguist just mutters, “You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

“No.” Trust Daniel to see through Jack’s attempts to blithely comfort him even facing away from him and balanced on a mere few inches of concrete under a railing. “No, I don’t.” It’s no use lying to him now, he knows Jack too well for that. All he can hope for is to convince Daniel that he doesn’t _care_ what he’s talking about, that nothing can be this bad; he settles for pleading, “But come inside.”

As if a switch has been flipped, Daniel’s head snaps up and he looks around as best he can without moving his body, clearly disoriented and confused. “Jack?” he queries, voice wavering, and Jack moves instinctively in response to that fear, darting across the balcony and grabbing his partner’s arm to steady him.

“Yeah,” he says, his own heart still racing at the distance he now can clearly see between Daniel and the unforgiving ground. Daniel’s blinking and looking around, dazed and frightened, and Jack takes a couple of deep breaths and rubs his free hand over Daniel’s back and shoulder while he keeps a solid hold of his arm. “C’mere,” he applies gentle but firm pressure, drawing his shell-shocked friend back over the railing and into his arms, backing them quickly back into the house and kicking the door firmly shut behind them.

Daniel is trembling in his arms. Jack is torn between keeping him clasped tightly against his chest in a hug or holding him at arm’s length and shaking him, and settles for doing a quick but thorough pat-down and reassuring himself that there are no other injuries. When he looks back down into Daniel’s face, opening his mouth to demand answers, the words die on his tongue. The younger man’s eyes are unfocused, and he’s paper white. “Jack,” he murmurs, “I don’t feel so good.”

With that, he collapses, Jack catching him just in time to prevent him from braining himself on the edge of the piano.

* * *

Things have been going south since then. Jack had bundled Daniel into his truck and rushed back to the base, where he had been conscious long enough to get changed back into his uniform and report to Janet in the infirmary, but swung wildly between depressed, uncharacteristically aggressive, and confused. They should have recognized the classic Daniel withdrawal symptoms, which they knew because they’d experienced the same after he’d been overexposed to the Goa’uld sarcophagus, earlier. Jack supposes it doesn’t matter if Fraiser can’t figure out what they’re addicted _to._ Within an hour of being put back into the doctor’s care, he’d been out cold again, and he hasn’t woken for more than a few minutes at a time since – not at all in the past couple of hours since Hammond called Jack home with the news that they’d lost the rest of SG-5. 

The nurse recording his blood pressure walks away, and Hammond and Fraiser take her place, talking in medical terms and gobbledegook that just serves to make Jack’s headache worse, but boils down to talking about the addiction. The beeping coming from Daniel’s bed a few feet away changes and Janet rushes over, looking concerned. He sits up immediately. “What’s that?”

“His EEG is sporadic.” She inspects the readouts on the screen and then turns to Jack. “This is exactly what happened to the members of SG-5 before they died. Sir, you're going to have to take him back to the planet.”

He looks over at the General, and he doesn’t even have to say anything. George nods, and Janet starts unhooking Daniel from all of the machines, issuing orders to medics and nurses as she goes. They’re rushing down the corridor in mere moments, and she’s giving Jack a whole list of instructions he’s going to struggle to remember later. Jack figures she can repeat them over the MALP once time is no longer a contributing factor.

The only machine still running is monitoring his heart, and it goes flat as they reach the Gateroom. Thank God someone has already opened the Gate for them to return, because Jack doesn’t have to wait, simply scoops the unconscious archaeologist off the gurney into a fireman’s carry and through the event horizon as fast as he can move, the voices of Janet and her staff a background hum.

As soon as they’re clear of the wormhole, he’s ready to collapse, but with an effort he controls their descent, protecting Daniel’s head as they go. There’s no pulse. “Daniel. Daniel. Come on, come on.” He shakes him a little, slapping his cheek though he can’t bring himself to put any force behind it. Fear creeps up his spine, nearly paralyzing. What if they had left it too late? He should have insisted they come back as soon as Frasier mentioned addiction. “Damn it, Daniel. Let’s go, c’mon.”

There’s still no response, and he can’t reach any of their packs from here to try and get to their medical supplies, thinking of the syringes of epinephrine that are standard mission gear. “Carter! Teal’c!” He raises his voice, knowing that the med kit is always at the top of Sam’s pack.

The boy appears instead, and he sits back to glance upwards into the kid’s distressed face. “Where are my friends?” He has a feeling he knows since they hadn’t answered Hammond’s radio summons, but he can hold out hope that they’re exploring some back passageway somewhere.

“With the light.”

So much for that hope. He tries to keep his voice reasonable, reminds himself the kid is just that, a kid, and alone. “Get them for me, will you?” Jack casts his eyes around for their packs – there, on the other side of the room. He weighs the time to go get a med pack against the benefit of starting CPR immediately.

“They won’t come.”

His patience evaporates, and he snaps out in his fiercest commanding officer voice, “Well, try!” The boy startles backward and disappears, and before he can growl anything else after his retreating form, there’s a faint moan and he looks down. The moan came from Daniel, who is blessedly coming to, his head rolling on his shoulders. Jack presses his shaking hand down to the side of Daniel’s neck again and the pulse beats strongly under his fingers.

The things they’ve seen since they opened the Stargate are enough to make any man question his faith, but Jack thanks God anyway, just in case this was his doing, resting his forehead against Daniel’s while he takes a couple of deep, desperate breaths that feel like he’s getting enough oxygen for the first time since Hammond said they’d lost the rest of SG-5.

Daniel moans again but doesn’t open his eyes, and Jack runs a soothing hand through his hair and makes a few meaningless noises. Daniel quiets under his touch, but his pulse stays strong, so Jack moves him out of the potential range of whoosh in case the Gate opens again and shoves to his feet to go read the rest of his team the riot act for being caught back up by the damn light.

He has to stride past Loran, who is standing helplessly outside the light chamber looking torn. “I’m not allowed to go in there,” he mutters, and Jack ignores him in favor of moving up to shake Sam.

“For God’s sake. Carter!” He turns her bodily around and she blinks at him in confusion. “Carter, wake up.”

“You’re back, sir.” Her brow furrows, “When?”

Jack ignores her, too, and moves over to slap Teal’c on the back. “Teal’c? Teal’c, come on.”

The Jaffa looks just as confused, turning slowly. “O’Neill.”

“Yeah, come on out of here.” They don’t move fast enough, so he adds just a little bite to his tone. “ _Right now._ ” Not waiting to see if they follow – he knows they will, because they’re both excellent soldiers, unlike the man he left lying in the other room – he turns to go back to Daniel, who is not where he left him. He scans the room quickly and is relieved to find that Daniel has gotten himself upright under his own power, sitting on the step though his head is in his arms and he doesn’t look up at their entrance.

Jack makes it over to the steps himself, hearing Teal’c’s surprised ‘Daniel Jackson!’ behind him, and then the relief washes over him again, hitting hard, and he has to sit down himself next to Daniel, barely resisting the urge to draw his partner closer. “Yep. Had to bring him back. It was the only thing that was going to keep him alive.” He says it as much for Daniel’s benefit as for the rest of them, because he’s sure that dying again – however briefly – hasn’t done much for their boy’s confusion levels.

“Sir, how long were you gone?” Carter asks, still looking a little peaky from her most recent encounter with the light.

“Few hours.” Jack wants to yell, but he keeps his voice steady because that’s not fair. Daniel and Teal’c were translating this crap for days, and they hadn’t realized the light was dangerous, he can’t have expected Sam to know it either. “Hammond tried to contact you.”

Carter and Teal’c share a look and he says, “He did not."

“He did. I heard his voice,” Loran offers from the doorway, hanging back uncertainly, probably still skittish from Jack’s earlier outburst.

“Where were we?” Carter protests. Loran points back to the room behind them, where they can faintly see blue and purple reflected on the ceiling.

“In there.”

This time when Sam looks back at him, she looks a little guilty and a lot stricken, probably horrified at the thought that she’d ignored a summons from the General. “I can’t explain it, Sir.”

He decides to take pity on her, a little, his goodwill helped along a lot by the way Daniel is recovering beside him. “Fraiser thinks we're all addicted to something here that alters our brain chemistry. And dollars to doughnuts, it's that _damn_ light.”

* * *

It takes them about a day more, and only a couple more episodes of losing themselves to the light, for his kids to figure out that the light show is just the inflight entertainment, and that the actual drug is something none of them can see. Thankfully, they also figure out how to slowly turn it down until they are normal enough to return home. They’re stuck here for a couple of weeks, which sucks but is infinitely better than forever. Jack turns his mind to logistics, sending Teal’c back to the SGC and sorting out getting supplies sent over, what monitoring and testing Janet wants them to do on each other, and their check-in procedures with the General.

Then he sorts out Loran, still reeling over the loss of his parents and guilty now that he knows there was a way to do it safely without sending them spiraling into a fatal depression. Thankfully, Jack reestablishes a rapport with him fairly quickly and feels pretty confident after a few hours that he can safely foist him off on Sam for a while and go looking for his other often guilt-ridden – and suspiciously missing – charge. He’d had the opportunity to have a brief chat with Fraiser after she imparted her instructions for their withdrawal period, and after a little coaxing, she’d discussed the episode on Daniel’s balcony with him. Her opinion, though she’d reminded him several times that she was a doctor of the body and not the mind, was that while the light-induced depression had exacerbated whatever was bothering Daniel, there was most likely an underlying root cause to his despair.

As it happened, Jack agreed. Something had been up with Danny since his Shifu-induced coma, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. None of them are able to leave the castle-like building, but it’s a big damn building. He climbs what feels like an eon’s worth of stairs and looks in what feels like a hundred rooms, and he’s starting to get annoyed. If it turns out the linguist did leave the building and is out on the beach somewhere, Jack will kill him himself this time and save them all the trouble. “Daniel!” he yells down the last hallway on this top floor, already turning to head down again when he finally gets a response.

“In here, Jack.”

It’s faint, but coming from a room on his right. He walks in and looks around, but it’s empty, except for some large piece of furniture under a dusty cloth that’s on a raised dais in the middle of the room. There are several smaller doorways on the walls around him. “Daniel?”

“Jack.”  
  
He follows the voice, skirting the dais, and goes to the middle doorway, where he freezes, because it’s a balcony and Daniel is sitting on top of the very short parapet, staring off into space. He swallows to wet his mouth, which has gone dry. “Get in here.”

Daniel twists around, eyebrows coming down in a confused little frown at the terse command. “Jack?”

“You. Balcony. It’s too soon, okay?”

“Oh. Um, sorry.” He offers a tiny, sheepish little smile, and swings around and hops down off of the ledge.

He holds out a hand, still on edge with Daniel standing so close to the edge with not much between himself and a four-story fall to the beach below. “Come in here so we can have a chat.”

Daniel peeks at him over the rim of his glasses, biting his lip at the seriousness underlying the command, but allows Jack to draw him back inside without protest. His momentum stalls once they’re inside, and he hesitates and trails his fingers over the strange language inscribed into the wall here just like everywhere else in the building as Jack climbs the couple of steps to investigate the seating options; he pulls the cloth away to reveal something that looks like a huge bed with padded benches on three sides and a massive headboard on the fourth. Either the people who lived here were giants, or they enjoyed their creature comforts.

Jack sits down and looks over at Daniel, who is looking at the doorway that leads back towards the central part of the complex. “I should go make sure Sam doesn’t need my help,” he says, edging away and not looking over.

“Daniel.” He drawls, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees. His archaeologist looks over and their eyes meet, and Jack looks steadily at him without saying anything else until the younger man gives in and mopes over, perching at the other end of the bench as if he might fly away at the slightest provocation. “What’s going on, Daniel?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tellingly, Daniel doesn’t look over at him.

“Don’t try to bullshit me, Dannyboy. You’ve been chewing on something for weeks, and whatever it is, you aren’t getting over it.”

“This place made everyone depressed.” Daniel’s deflecting, arms wrapped around himself, “I’ll be fine when we get home in a couple of weeks.”

“ _Daniel,”_ he growls, and the man hunches over just a little farther next to him. Jack closes his eyes, gathering his patience, and puts a soothing hand on the back of Daniel’s neck. Daniel doesn’t sit up, but he slowly starts to relax under Jack’s touch. Jack settles in to wait him out, letting the continuous sound of waves crashing on the beach sink in and lull both of them.

It takes a few minutes, but Daniel turns towards him slightly, not looking up still but body language enormously more open. “I can’t stop thinking about what Shifu showed me.”

“All he said was that he was teaching you.” Jack offers. It had seemed like a strange wording then, but it seems even more incongruous now that he knows it’s been affecting Daniel so much. Their triple Ph.D. genius is usually an excellent student, not someone who struggles with the basic concepts.

“I guess you could call it that.” Daniel huffs a little bit. “He made me live through what would happen if I had all the knowledge he had.”

“Okay…”

“I made a lot of really terrible decisions. Couldn’t handle the knowledge or the power it gave me.”

“Daniel, it wasn’t real.” Jack squeezes the back of his neck. “It was one possible made-up future coming from a two-going-on-twelve-year-old who doesn’t even really know you. Whatever you did in his imagination, there’s no reason to think you’d really do it.”

Instead of helping, Daniel stiffens under his hand and then jerks away, standing up suddenly. “You don’t get it.” Jack is taken aback by the vehemence in his friend’s voice, leaning back in his seat and eyebrows flying up. “He’s basically an ascended being. There’s no reason to assume he doesn’t know!” His fists clench for the briefest of moments and then his whole body sags, the dark despair returning to his voice. “I _killed_ Teal’c. I-I put Sam in prison for questioning me. I blew up Moscow and started a nuclear war. I went so far off the rails that you came to _assassinate_ me. I was… _evil._ ”

“Oy, Daniel…” he murmurs, reaching for him.

“No! You should all hate me.” Daniel tries to jerk away and almost falls off the dais. Jack catches him and yanks him back down onto the bench, grabbing both of his arms and giving him a little shake.

“Hey! No, you listen to me. That kid may be way smarter than us, but he doesn’t know you better than I do. He knew what he needed to show you to get you to back off, and he did.” Of this, Jack has no doubt. “You would never have done any of those things. Even if you went crazy filled with Goa’uld knowledge, I would never let you get that far. Shifu was making assumptions about what the whole of the human race would do with that knowledge, and applying it to you.”

“It feels real, Jack.” Daniel leans forward into his hold, shoulders still up around his ears. “It feels like memories, not a nightmare.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath than Jack can feel through his grasp on his upper arms. “But I really thought I was dealing with it okay until I came here. Now it’s all fresh again.”

“Daniel, everyone in the SGC knows that things haven’t been okay for you since Shifu.” Jack tries to break this news gently. “I think the General was hoping this would be an easy archaeologist-puzzle that would draw you out of your funk.”

“Oh.”

“So, what d’ya think? You did end up solving this one in the end. Lots of translations still to do before we can go home. You gonna be able to let the Harsesis thing go?”

He can at least say Daniel gives it some serious thought, sitting quietly next to him for some time, long enough that they both lean back against the bed, Daniel looking out the window at the ocean and Jack watching him think. He knows what his partner is thinking before Daniel is ready to say anything out loud by the way he starts to fidget, getting tenser instead of relaxing.

Just as Jack is about to let it go for today and suggest they go find Sam and Loran, Daniel turns his head just a little, to look at Jack out of the corner of his eye. “On top of the Shifu stuff, there’s the way I treated the General. And probably the rest of you, as I can only imagine.” There’s a red tint working its way across what Jack can see of Daniel’s face, but he pushes on. “And before you say anything, I know it wasn’t all my fault. I still think I’d rather just have the help and get over the guilt before we head home.”

“You sure?” Sometimes, Daniel is so wrapped up in the stress of it that it’s clear what he needs, or what Jack needs, but times like these still feel like quicksand that one or both of them are being forced to navigate blindfolded. But Daniel just gives him a jerky nod and quirks that bashful smile that never fails to make Jack want to give him anything he desires, so Jack shifts forward on the bench, making sure both feet are flat on the dais and spreading his legs to make a more secure support for his partner to lie across and then he offers his hand to Daniel.

“C’mere, then.”

Without ever meeting his eyes, Daniel puts his hand in Jack’s and lets firm pressure draw him forward over the colonel’s knees. It should be awkward, but they’ve done this enough times now that it only takes a minute for Jack to unbutton his pants and tug them and his underwear down near his knees, and then wrap an arm around his waist, drawing him securely against his body. Daniel only wriggles for a second before going still, and the low noise he emits before he goes motionless is more one of mortification than protest.

The first spank is always loud, a shock to both of them, but it seems even worse here where it echoes off of empty stone walls. Daniel jumps in his grasp and Jack winces, watching the pink color bloom where his hand had fallen and hoping they’re far enough away from the Gate and light chambers that the sound won’t carry, and that Sam has been able to keep Loran occupied and not wandering.

The stiffness of the man lying across his lap says Daniel is probably thinking some of the same things – but as long as Daniel’s thinking about that, he’s not letting go of the stress and the guilt. Jack decides it’s probably best if they make this quick just in case, and so he stops lollygagging around and starts landing hard, rapid smacks to get Daniel focused back in the here and now.

In this case, the potential for discovery and the embarrassment that goes with it seem to help. He keeps an eagle eye on Daniel’s reactions and he starts squirming and whining in earnest almost right away, though he never makes any real attempt to get out of Jack’s firm grasp (he never has, which is their saving grace; Jack can ignore the whimpers and hitched breaths and rather endearing pleading but if Danny physically fought him, he’d never be able to go through with this no matter how much the kid said it helped him).

There is a hint of tears under Daniel’s protests by the time his backside is just a hot pink bordering on red, and Jack can hear how hard he’s trying to hold out against giving in, the fingers of his right hand wrapped tightly around Jack’s ankle and his left hand tangled in Jack’s jacket. He almost never lets go this quickly, but in this case, Jack’s not going to look the gift horse in the mouth. He tips the shorter man just a little further over his lap and focuses his quick, purposeful swats to the most sensitive undercurve of Daniel’s bottom and the tops of his thighs.

It works, and Daniel gives into the quiet sobs he’s been holding back. Jack leans over him for a minute, one hand rubbing his back and the other gently threading through the hair at the back of his neck. “That’s it, Danny, just let it go.” He breathes the words, his own fears and anxieties of the past day seeming to flow out along with all of Daniel’s guilt and tears. “Everything’s fine.”

His archaeologist is mostly dead weight as Jack hauls them upright, righting Daniel’s clothes as gently as he can, not trusting that they won’t have a curious visitor of the teenage sort before much more time has elapsed, and not wanting to have to try and explain anything that just happened to Loran or Sam if she follows him up. Daniel is wrapped around him, face tucked into the crook of his neck and clearly not intending to let go any time soon, so he staggers backward to fall into the wide bed, pulling Daniel down with him.

It’s hard to tell whether the hand running through Danny’s hair now is more soothing to Daniel or Jack, but he has no inclination to stop. When he does pause to lift his wrist and check the time, there’s a muffled sound of protest and then Daniel shifts to prop his head up on Jack’s chest, briefly bringing his other hand up and rubbing at the faint dried tear tracks on his face. “Do you need to go call into the General?”

“Not yet. As long as Carter can keep the kid busy, we’ve got another couple of hours to ourselves.” He shifts to get more comfortable, aware of the way his partner shifts to stay tucked up against his side, still seeking the physical comfort. There’s a reason they don’t usually do this on a mission or base, but in this case, stuck here for several weeks he hadn’t been willing to let Daniel stew in his own guilt until they got home either. Daniel seems to realize what he’s doing and where they are, and he stiffens and starts to draw away but Jack just tightens his arm to prevent him from getting away. “It’s okay.  
  
“What if…Sam…” Daniel makes the token protest, but trails off, fighting his desire to stay right where he is.

“You died yesterday, Danny. Sam’s not going to read anything more into this than the stupidly high number of nights I’ve spent sleeping in the chair next to your infirmary bed.” Jack resumes stroking through Daniel’s hair and down his back, using the comforting and steady movement to his advantage knowing how much Danny likes it, and he’s rewarded when Daniel goes boneless beside him once more. “Besides, I think Janet and Sam both know if the infirmary beds weren’t so damn small I certainly wouldn’t be spending my nights in those damn uncomfortable chairs, I’d be stretched out right next to you.”

There’s the very faint sound of Daniel chuckling weakly into his side, and then he’s quiet for long enough that Jack thinks he’s fallen asleep. Moving as little as possible, he sets an alarm on his watch so he won’t forget his check-in with Hammond and then he’s half asleep himself when the Daniel speaks again, so softly he almost misses it. “Jack?”

“Daniel?” He opens his eyes to look down, but all he can see is the top of Daniel’s head anyway.

“If I did…lose myself like that. You’d stop me, right?”

“Damn right I would.” It might kill him in the process if he had to hurt Daniel to stop him, but they’d discussed what they’d do to keep each other out of the influence of the Goa’uld a long time ago, and he’s intimately familiar with what Daniel wants him to do just like he trusts Daniel to do the unthinkable for him if the need ever comes. “Now go to sleep. Real sleep or I’ll let Fraiser drug you.”

Daniel’s muttered response of, “Yes, _sir_ ,” simply bleeds so much snarkiness that Jack can’t help himself; he lands a single swat to Daniel’s already sore butt that gets him an indignant yelp but when he immediately goes back to stroking up and down Daniel’s back, his linguist subsides with something nearly inaudible mutter under his breath and within minutes, he’s asleep. Jack lets himself drift off as well, somewhat satisfied that he doesn’t need the Doc’s drugs to get their boy to sleep after all...if he did, he’d be losing his edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S4E17 (“Absolute Power”) To explain why he isn’t willing to share “all the knowledge of his Goa’uld parents” with the SGC, Shifu (the Harsesis child) gives Daniel a series of ‘teaching dreams’, in which the knowledge of the Goa’uld turns even Daniel into a conceited and power-hungry man who makes a lot of choices he would never make in real life.
> 
> S4E18 (“The Light”) Daniel goes off-world to some translating with SG-5 and they become extremely addicted to something on the planet. As Dr. Fraiser starts to realize that she can’t treat it, the rest of SG-5 having committed suicide or died in withdrawal, Daniel also flatlines but he survives by Jack carrying him back to the planet just in time and they are able to figure out how to wean themselves and the rest of SG-1 off of the Goa’uld drug without dying.


	16. Snippet: The Fifth Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a few encounters with aliens give Daniel bad dreams. Jack helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short interlude covering S5E3 (“Ascension”) and S6E4 (“The Fifth Man”). Mostly just fluff here. Episode recaps in the end notes if you need them.

When he climbs into his car, he’s only thinking that he’s so tired his eyes are nearly crossed, and he’s just started to realize how hungry he is. The long drive down the highway away from the Mountain is mind-numbing; autopilot. It’s not until he reaches the Springs, the turn that differentiates the route to his apartment from the route to Jack’s house, that he hesitates.

He knows Jack will be expecting him, but he can’t make himself turn that direction. Something about the way they’re treating Sam just makes his gut churn, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to contradict Jack under the mountain, so he probably doesn’t even realize Daniel’s upset. No, that’s unfair; Jack always knows when he’s upset, he probably just doesn’t realize _how_ upset. Someone honks behind him, jerking him out of his daze, and he makes a decision.

The fish are fed, he’s showered and changed, and he’s restlessly doing house chores because he can’t quite settle back into his translations or into any of the books he has started. Jack knew he was working late, but it’s only a matter of time before he gets suspicious about exactly how late. He’s elbow-deep in dishwater when the phone finally rings.

Hastily drying his hands, he reaches for the receiver and tries to sound normal. “Hello?”

 _“Daniel,”_ comes the drawled, familiar response.

“Jack,”

_“What’s going on?”_

He hesitates and then tries for quietly bemused. “What do you mean? I worked on the translation from 636 until I couldn’t stand it anymore, and then I went home.”

_“Daniel?”_

“Jack?”

_“Why are you there, and not here?”_

“I needed some texts from here,” Daniel hesitates, looking around his little kitchen, contemplating his little white lie. Was it enough? Too much?

_“Sweet, then I’ll see you in fifteen?”_

“Um….”

 _“That’s what I thought. Cut the bullshit, Danny. What’s going on?”_ Daniel must pause a moment too long because Jack growls on the other end. _“I’m coming to you.”_

* * *

He’s finished the dishes, done a little vacuuming, and manages to settle on the end of the couch before the door opens. From the sounds, Jack goes right into the kitchen and shoves some things into the fridge before he comes into the living room, hands deep in his pockets as he frowns down at Daniel. “Okay, cough it up.”

“Jack?” he blinks, slowly closing his book to set it aside, still not sure what to say to him.

“Damn it, Daniel, I don’t want to play twenty questions. If there’s something wrong, just spit it out.”

“Fine!” Daniel shoves to his feet, both hands going momentarily to his hair, raking the already disheveled locks straight up in the air. “A psych eval, Jack, seriously? Did you even try and defend her?”

Comprehension flickers on Jack’s face, but he’s still scowling at Daniel. “She’s seeing a person that none of us or the very best of the SGC’s equipment can detect. A psych eval wasn’t out of the question.”

“And what follows the psych eval, huh?” Daniel’s vaguely aware that his voice isn’t quite steady, and as he crosses his arms over his chest, he shoves his hands under the opposite armpits to disguise that they’ve developed a slight tremor. “Does she get a chance to play along with the exhaustion theory before you lock her away in a padded room?”

“Daniel…” he looks away from Jack as the older man scrubs a hand over his face, frustration still evident in his movement, which he tracks out of the corner of his eye. When he speaks again, his voice is almost gentle. “Danny.”

Jack reaches out and puts his hands on Daniel’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “We all learned our lesson the last time, Daniel. Me, Hammond, Frasier – we’re not going to let that happen again. We might not be able to act on Sam’s word if we can’t corroborate it, but nothing terrible is going to happen to her.”

He peers up at Jack, biting his lip as he considers the truth behind his friend’s – their commander’s – words. “No padded room?”

“No.”

“No drugs?”

“No drugs.”

“No reassignment?”

“No reassignment. Daniel, we’ve got some enforced downtime from missions for a while, that’s it.” Slowly, Daniel relaxes a little bit and gives in to the pressure from Jack’s hands pushing down on his shoulders, folding back into his seat on the couch and Jack perches on the coffee table in front of him. “If Sam’s mystery friend is real, she’ll eventually have a way to prove it. And if not, the time off won’t hurt any of us. Alright?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Okay, Jack.”

“Sweet. You hungry?” At Daniel’s shrug and nod, he pushes off of the couch, groaning a little as he stretches his back, and leads the way back into the kitchen. It turns out it's takeout Chinese he’s stashed in the fridge, and he starts dishing it out of its styrofoam containers onto plates from Daniel’s cabinet to nuke in the microwave.

Slowly Daniel follows and settles leaning up against a bank of cabinets, arms still wrapped around his middle and watches. It’s a familiar routine, though not one that plays out in his kitchen as often as it plays out in Jack’s. After a minute of just the hum of the microwave, Jack turns and fixes him with a questioning look that’s just as familiar and he looks down, inspecting the floor. “Daniel?”

Daniel drags his gaze upwards, peering into Jack’s face. He’s worried, though it might not have been apparent to anyone who didn’t know him as well. There’s a twinge of guilt about making Jack worry about him, and he offers a tiny sheepish smile. “Sorry. I should have just….” He trails off. Asked? Trusted? He still has nightmares about being locked away in the psych ward, but he usually trusts Jack further than he had today.

The look Jack gives him speaks volumes. It’s simultaneously ‘yes, you should have trusted me’ and ‘I understand why you didn’t’. When he does speak, after sliding a plate he takes out of the microwave down the counter to Daniel, he just says, “It won’t happen again.”

Daniel believes him.

* * *

Daniel has to hold tight to that promise a few weeks later when he’s facing Simmons across the briefing table. It’s reassuring that Sam and Teal’c are remembering the same things he is, but it does absolutely nothing for his nerves that Jack is stuck off-world and Hammond seems to be having trouble making any sort of end-run around Simmons.

Jack – and Hammond, for that matter – have promised he won’t be locked up again, but right now Daniel isn’t even sure that the General is going to be able to keep him as part of the SGC much less have any control over his medical care. Still, at least it’s all four of SG-1 who are supposedly seeing things so they can’t be brushed aside as easily as deluded. Reassuringly, he knows Janet is working hard to find a medical cause. Also reassuringly, he can tell Hammond is very frustrated by Simmons’ presence and would rather deal with the whole thing in-house. But for now…the General wanted them to stall Simmons while he did some looking and checking of his own, and Daniel has years of practice confusing and frustrating military types unintentionally. So much so, that it’s almost fun to wind Simmons up on purpose. It would be fun, if he wasn’t so worried about Jack.

Simmons makes some sort of crack about his position at the SGC – something he, the man who opened the Stargate, has been told many times in the past few years it would take some extraordinary circumstances to put in jeopardy - and he forces himself to remember the quick squeeze of the General’s hand on his shoulder, the steady look of reassurance that had been aimed his way as he was escorted into this interview. They might not know what Simmons is digging for this time, or for whom, or why SG-1 is remembering a Lieutenant nobody else in the SGC has ever met, but Hammond isn’t panicked yet.

Daniel leans forward, pasting an extremely confused look on his face. “What’s…your…position again?” Simmons smirks cruelly, trying for nonchalant, but his white-knuckled grip on his pen says something else. Daniel’s complete lack of concern, and the lack of cooperation from the General, is getting to him.

Good. Just wait until he tries this game on Teal’c. The thought is enough to keep Daniel’s spirits up until Simmons gives up on him and he’s escorted back to his quarters.

* * *

He wakes up from the nightmare in a cold sweat, his heart racing at a speed that can’t possibly be healthy. He can already taste the sour aftertaste of adrenalin leaving his body, his whole mouth dry, and sticky with it. He’d been back in the padded room, but this time, it had been Jack in danger and not Teal’c, and still, nobody had listened. He’d woken right after dream-Sam had come to see him, awake before she spoke, but her face had told him everything he needed to know. Dream-Jack had died while he was drugged and locked away.

The sound of Jack breathing isn’t enough to calm his racing heart. Daniel has to roll over, settling his head on his partner’s chest as slowly and quietly as he can so he can hear the heartbeat beneath him. They’d been just in time tracking Jack and Yayayeii to the ruins. A few more seconds and that Jaffa would have executed Jack without hesitation.

Just once, Daniel would like for them to be able to save the day in a timely fashion instead of right before someone dies.

Jack’s hand comes up to tangle in his hair, a warm weight at the base of his neck. Daniel winces and would have drawn away, but the hand and the arm attached to it are firm, holding him there, fingers stroking gently. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“Nightmares?” Jack’s voice is more the feeling of his air moving in his chest than any real sound, the way Daniel’s wrapped around him, and when he twists his head Jack’s eyes are open, though as dark as it is, they’re barely more than glittering shapes.

Daniel nods. It’s nice to be understood.

“Go back to sleep.”

It shouldn’t be that easy, just to drop off at the quiet command after scaring himself awake, but the shivering has already eased under Jack’s quiet and tactile reassurance, and he does find himself dropping off quickly, because they beat the odds again, and Jack’s here to drive away the bad dreams just by existing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S5E3 (“Ascension”) - On an alien planet Sam passes out after touching an artifact, and when they return to earth she can see an alien nobody else can see. For a while, nobody believes her. It turns out that it's an ascended ancient who de-ascends to prevent the Tau'ri from being able to use the weapon he had designed on the planet. 
> 
> S6E4 (“The Fifth Man”) - The entirety of SG-1 hallucinates a 5th member, who they believe is trapped on a planet with Jack under heavy Jaffa attack. While Jack and the alien they think is Lieutenant Tyler try to stay alive, SG-1 falls under suspicion by a former enemy Simmons and whoever he works for. In the end Janet figures out that they were touched with something that made them see the 5th person and they're allowed to go back and rescue Jack just in time, as well as the alien who returns to his own world.


	17. Beast of Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Danny gets in over his head trying to save a friend, and Jack takes exception to the situation they end up in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode tag to S5E7; no episode summary because I think the chapter fares relatively well on it's own. Also, I'm apologizing ahead of time because this is a long chapter. And it pushes this work over 60k words which is insane to me. 00
> 
> As usual, some dialogue drawn directly from the episode and that's not mine!

Daniel’s pacing the confines of the small med bay, waiting for Janet to come to release him, and ridiculously grateful for the curtain hiding him from the rest of the infirmary. If he was in full view he’d feel the need to sit down and wait patiently, and that just isn’t an option right now. He should have known it was going to be, as the children’s book said, a ‘terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day’ from the start. Or, in this case, couple of days. If he’d read the signs better that morning, Daniel would have just called in sick and given the briefing on the P3X-888 situation another day.

Jack had been touchy from the get-go; out of bed before Daniel woke, showered and dressed before he had his first coffee, breakfast finished and gone to the mountain before Daniel had a chance to sound out why he was so grumpy. Because, okay, they’d been a little at odds on their last scheduled trip out to P39-865, and the stress of having almost destroyed those people hadn’t helped, but Daniel thought they’d gotten past it when they’d all come together to fight for Cassie.

So, despite all signs to the contrary, he assumed that Jack just got up on the wrong side of the bed and shrugged it off, following him to the Mountain and settling in for a day of paperwork. But the first thing across his desk was new footage from P3X-888 of Chaka getting abducted, and he hurried to the General’s office and was standing in front of the team giving a rushed briefing less than an hour later. That’s the second chance he had to realize today was going to be a bad day.

Jack’s interactions with the Unas to date hadn’t been resoundingly positive. The Goa’uld’ed one had tried to kill him and Teal’c on Cimmeria, and then Daniel had been kidnapped by the ones on Chaka’s world. It didn’t matter to Jack that in that case, all was well that ended well, the initial offense was the presiding memory. Plus, they’d lost quite a few people in that incident, and Jack wasn’t very forgiving of that. Still, it had been an unpleasant moment when Jack interrupted his presentation with a callous and abrupt ‘I don’t care’. Daniel had been momentarily startled into silence, hurt, and only slightly mollified by the censorious looks Jack had received from Hammond, Sam, and Teal’c.

But he hadn’t recognized the signs then, either, that today wasn’t a good day; and when his feeling of personal responsibility wasn’t enough to convince them the mission was important, he’d pushed the Goa’uld weapon angle until Jack and the General agreed to make the trip, and everything had gone alarmingly downhill from there.

* * *

Jack didn’t think this mission was a good idea. Not that he didn’t understand that Daniel was upset about the Unas’ capture, and not that he didn’t sympathize, but SG-1 was still a little off after Cassie and the planet with the sun they’d royally screwed. Almost wiping out a whole planet’s society would make even the best team a little shaky, and a little introspective, and he’d planned to do some team training sessions before they got back to regular missions. Unfortunately, the thing with Cassie had happened. They’d dropped all other plans to find a cure for her, of _course_ they had, but it meant that now they were still off-balance. Add in emotionally raw on top of it, and he knew they were off their game.

It made him twitchy, which made him grumpy. He knew when he woke up that he needed to get his head on straight before anything else, so he’d rushed through his morning routine to get to the Mountain as fast as possible, intending to maybe talk Teal’c into a really hard workout session to burn off some of his orneriness. Jack was very aware that his standoffishness bothered Daniel, but he honestly thought it was better that way than snapping at him for things that weren’t his fault. They’d have a Monday of downtime, he’d get in some hard physical labor while Daniel caught up on his translations and artifacts; he’d make up his poor behavior to Danny after work and then the next day they’d do the team trainings he’d been planning and by Wednesday they’d be ready to take on their next mission.

So, when Daniel threw a wrench into his well-laid plans with concerns about a missing _Unas_ , of all things, he was a little bit of a jerk. What’s more, he didn’t even realize he’d shot Daniel down like that until he got the disapproving, silent glares from Carter, Teal’c, _and_ the General. Only then had he looked over and caught the tail end of the hurt look Daniel was swallowing down, and he felt like a huge asshole. Stuff like that was exactly why he’d been in such a hurry to escape his partner that morning – when he was in a mood like this, it was too easy to growl at Daniel. But, in the end, he’d capitulated and agreed to go investigate Chaka’s disappearance.

Now, staring down into the village where the people appear to be using Unas as, at best, beasts of burden or, at worst, slaves, he dearly wishes he’d insisted they stayed home. This is exactly the kind of situation where Daniel’s huge heart and strict moral code, as much as he loves the man for them, are likely to get them in over their heads. All Jack wants is to insist they turn around and come back another day, but he can’t justify that yet from a command standpoint. He glances over at Daniel’s tight, worried face, and sighs.

“We’ll check things out down there. Carter, you and Teal’c hang back, cover us in case these folks don’t like visitors.” While Carter reaches up to unhook their small pack of supplies, he looks over at Daniel. “Any ideas?”

Daniel doesn’t look at him. “Well, let’s see how far honesty gets us.” Oh yeah, Daniel’s still upset about that morning at home and the briefing. There’s a wealth of information encoded in that simple statement – a subtle dig at how poorly Jack’s recent attempt to insist Freyr was an alien had gone, as well as an oft-aired complaint about Jack shutting him out instead of talking to him like this morning.

Well aware of Sam and Teal’c waiting in heavy and aware silence, Jack sighs again. “Okay.” They stand up and head down the ridge, but as soon as they’re out of earshot and mostly hidden by the trees, he swings around and fixes Daniel with a serious glare. “No going off half-cocked.”

Daniel has the audacity to look puzzled. “Jack?”

“I mean it, Daniel. We’re just going down to see what’s up, see if they even have Chaka, gather some information. Then we reconvene with Carter and Teal’c and discuss further moves with the General.” Though he’s staring down at Daniel, the archaeologist isn’t quite meeting his gaze. “We’re not here to do anything drastic. You read me?”

“Sure, Jack.”

He should have insisted on a promise. Or, better yet, a nice solid military-approved ‘ _Yes, sir_ ’.

They’ve barely walked into the village when Daniel abandons his supposed plan of ‘honesty’ and tells this man who just killed an Unas in front of them for trying to run away that they’re Unas traders, and before Jack knows it they’re sitting down to drinks with a man who is lying through his teeth about what he knows about the Stargate. Still, he’s talking to them in a way Jack supposes he’d never have talked to them if Daniel had led with the fact that they were looking for Chaka, so he plays along.

Through drinks and as they are walking around the village with the man, Daniel is nearly vibrating at his side with tension. Jack’s not comfortable with how they’re treating the Unas either, with this blatant brutality, but from a tactical standpoint he’s all too aware of how many people (how many armed men) seem to be in the village, and they don’t have a reason or the orders to get into a firefight to free the Unas. Jack’s not even totally convinced they need to be freed, though he wouldn’t be opposed to Daniel finding a way to convince these people that they could communicate with the Unas through some method that isn’t torture.

Of course, because today’s just shaping up to be a great day, the damn golden goose Burrock is raving over _is_ Chaka. And _of course,_ the first thing Chaka does is use Daniel’s name. Even butchered in the strange accent of the Unas, Burrock recognizes it at once. And, three for three in the trifecta of doom, Daniel makes a claim on Chaka and becomes the one thing standing between Burrock and being ‘the wealthiest beastmaster in the land’.

Jack wants to strangle him.

Jack looks around the barn, but the only exit is the door they came in. Burrock gets more agitated with every word that leaves Daniel’s mouth, and just as Jack is ready to drag his pain-in-the-ass scientist back to the Gate and make this someone else’s problem, the half-open doorway is filled with the dark silhouettes of two men.

Men with zats. He tenses up, shifting to cover Daniel’s six, but the men do not advance any further. Most likely, waiting for orders.

Jack turns a deadly glare on Daniel, who at least has the grace to look nervous. But it doesn’t stop him from continuing to argue that Chaka is his. “Daniel.” He makes it a quiet order – shut up, Daniel.

“Jack!” comes the expected protest, his eyes wide and begging. He’s so caught up in the capture of his friend, he’s not paying the slightest bit of attention to the threatening way the men at the doorway are watching them, or the threat in Burrock’s movements.

“Why don’t we discuss what we can offer the man in return? Shall we?” Daniel shuts his mouth but hesitates, and Jack can see the wheels turning. Before Daniel can decide following orders isn’t in him today, Jack adds, “Outside,” in a voice that leaves absolutely no room to be interpreted as anything _except_ an order.

Then he leaves the little barn quickly, Daniel scrambling to keep up as Chaka yells his name behind them. He keeps walking quickly so that Burrock and his goons fall behind, and growls at his infuriating partner, “Daniel, we’re _not_ going to get into a firefight over this right now.”

Burrock has caught up to them, his voice full of bluster as he calls out, “If you expect to trade for that Unas, do not think it will come cheap.”

Daniel turns around, fury in his eyes, and Jack turns around as well to put himself between the archaeologist and the red-in-the-face beastmaster, taking up the argument so that Daniel will not. “So, what's your price?” He allows himself to hope that it’s something they can just pay and get out of here before anything else can go wrong.

“Two Unas of equally pure lineage.”

Or not. “Two for one, eh?” he goes for the bluff, making it sound as if that’s unreasonably high, but Burrock has been paying attention to everything they’ve done and said.

“Your Unas is worth it, or you would not have traveled all this way. Besides, you obviously have more sophisticated methods for capturing and training them.” In other words, he’s onto them being something other than traders of Unas, and he wants to capitalize on it. It doesn’t matter – Daniel would never agree to capture two Unas to trade for Chaka, and neither would the General. Or Jack, if he’s being really honest with himself. Chaka, leader of his clan, probably wouldn’t either.

Already braced for an argument from Daniel, and possible a cold shoulder and a lonely bed tonight, he responds with, “We'll think about it,” and turns away from Burrock, thumping Daniel’s shoulder lightly to get his attention. “Come on.”

As expected, Daniel isn’t willing to leave it at that. He argues with Jack all the way back to their teammates, and while it’s frustrating and annoying, Jack lets him, because he doesn’t _want_ to have to leave the poor creatures here, especially the one Daniel thinks of as a friend, so the least he can do is let him have his complaints. It doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t think they can or should get involved right now, but he lets Daniel make his case. Against his own better judgment, and knowing that in all likelihood Carter and Teal’c will agree with Daniel even if Sam would never argue with him like this and Teal’c would just stare disapprovingly, he lets Daniel convince him that they have to at least go back for Chaka after dark, and then they can go explain the rest of this situation to Hammond and let him tackle it from there. Jack doesn’t want to be the one who lets Daniel down, any more than Sam and Teal’c do.

Even Daniel admits that they can’t save all of the Unas today, and Jack is feeling okay about the plan they hash out. He spends the time until nightfall giving Daniel several fierce, quiet speeches about following orders, sticking to the plan, not taking human lives if they can’t get in and out covertly, not being able to save everyone, and so on. Carter and Teal’c, bless them, pretend to be oblivious to what’s going on. Under Jack’s watchful eye Daniel looks frustrated and somewhat embarrassed at the length at which Jack lectures him, but Jack’s learned his lesson already today and he extracts the promises he should have gotten this morning.

Daniel breaks every single one of those promises without a thought when Chaka balks, refusing to leave his fellow captives, and the building is surrounded by angry townspeople before Jack can grab him and drag him out. Carter’s warning about having company puts him on high alert just as something moves overhead and he spins around; he’s not fast enough. He shoots at the man on the parapet but out of nowhere there’s zat fire, the sound of Teal’c’s staff weapon and Carter’s rifle, Carter over the radio again; then his whole body is burning and he’s falling, and he doesn’t remember anything else until he wakes up chained in one of the cages, with the familiar migraine and whole-body aching that comes with being zatted.

“Jack?” Daniel’s voice floats over from a few cages down. His first thought is overwhelming relief that Daniel is alive and awake, but the fury follows hard on its heels, because they are chained up at the mercy of a man who shot an Unas in cold blood yesterday, and it is entirely Daniel’s fault.

“Shut up, Daniel.” Jack hears himself say in a flat and furious voice, and Daniel does for once, sitting down against the bars in an easy, graceful way that Jack is relieved again to know means Daniel isn’t in any sort of major pain or distress.

None of them speak, and time passes like slow molasses, miserable guilt rolling off of Daniel that he can see even from two cages away. It seems their oblivious young genius might have finally clued in to how pissed off Jack is and how much trouble they’re in because he doesn’t try to speak to Jack again beyond furtive, questioning glances that Jack ignores. The crackle of the radio from somewhere between them is a wonderful, welcome disruption.

Sam’s voice comes faintly over the radio, which Chaka digs out of the straw. It takes a moment for Daniel to convince the Unas to hand over the radio, and being Daniel, he manages to get distracted from their very precarious situation to wonder over learning new words in Unas. Valiantly resisting the urge to yell, Jack makes a “get on with it” motion with his hand. “Daniel…”

“Right,” he gets that flustered little look over the top of Daniel’s glasses, but Daniel does adjust the radio and speak into it. “Sam, it’s Daniel. Do you read?”

 _“Daniel, are you okay?”  
  
_ “Uh…” Daniel glances at him again and sighs. “I’ve been better.”

_“Colonel O’Neill?”_

“Uh, physically fine. But I’m not expecting a birthday present any time soon.” Daniel’s laying on the guilt trip and the unspoken I’m-sorry-please-forgive-me act pretty hard, with his tentative looks and his coded words, and Jack is starting to thaw. He doesn’t let it show, because honestly, Daniel in a guilty mood is more likely to follow his damn orders and maybe they can get out of here and home safe.

“Ko!” He uses Daniel and Chaka’s new word for ‘give’, gesturing for the radio. The Unas looks over and Jack repeats the order. “Ko!”

Of course, Chaka doesn’t take Jack’s orders any better than Daniel apparently does, and so he looks back over at Daniel, who is smart enough not to press his luck, immediately handing over the radio with an agreeable, “Ko.”

They don’t establish much with Sam except that she and Teal’c are fine, and they’re trying to get reinforcements. He doesn’t have anything to add to help them, so he leaves them to it and turns his attention to the conversation Daniel’s having with Chaka. Jack can’t even begin to understand the words, but his familiarity with Daniel’s body language tells him most of what he needs to know. Still, when the Unas turns to address him directly, he can’t help but wish he knew the exact meaning of the mournfully whispered words. “What he’s saying?” he stoops to asking Daniel to clarify.

“Well,” Daniel looks resigned now, and a far cry from his vehement argument with Chaka, his words to Jack are muted. “Actually, that means a lot of different things.” Daniel looks away, another one of his tells, and then continues. “In this particular case, I'd say "Thank you for trying to free me. Sorry for getting you into this mess."

Ah. After Jack shut him down hard earlier, Daniel’s not ready or willing to try the explanation or apology thing again, but he can make himself heard anyway. Jack’s considering a response, but he can still feel the frustration and irritation festering inside and he doesn’t want to say something he doesn’t mean.

“Chaka!” Chaka interrupts, clearly not sure about the tension between them and wanting to make sure his meaning to Jack was clear.

“Chocka full of nuts…” Jack tries but it feels ridiculous, not even knowing what the word _means_. “…whatever.”

“Jack, it’s not his fault,” Daniel protests the obvious sarcasm, though honestly, Jack thinks sarcasm is probably something that does not even register on the Unas’ radars.

“Daniel,” he says warningly, “I’m chained up in a madman’s barn with a bunch of Unas. Who’s to blame is not at the top of my list of concerns… _just_ yet.” Daniel takes the threat as it’s intended, and stays quiet, looking down and away. It’s like kicking a puppy, and Jack’s ire and his better nature are already engaged in an all-out war over whether to keep kicking him or to lighten up a little. Ire is winning so far, but as the silence stretches between them, the urge to reassure him that all will be well is building.

Out of nowhere into the crackling tension between them, Daniel exclaims, “That’s amazing!”

“What?” He was just convincing himself to go a little easier on his friend, but the demand drops harshly from his lips.

“Language is a learned behavior.” The harsh reception he gets from Jack doesn’t even phase the linguist at this point. His explanation is even accompanied by the slightest of tiny little smiles; the expression of Doctor Daniel Jackson who has just made an important discovery. Only Danny could do that under all of this stress, locked up by a madman with a group of creatures whose language he barely speaks and who may or may not kill people for fun (Jack’s never been quite sure on that point). “Chaka must have taught this Unas his word.”

There’s some sort of interaction between Chaka and the Unas around them, and Daniel in his natural habitat translates for Jack almost absently. “They’re saying Chaka is their leader! They must recognize that he wouldn't leave without them.”

“Daniel,” he answers, striving for the patience he doesn’t feel, “dogs sniff each other’s butts, and they’re friends for life. We still keep them as pets.” Jack’s still not sure that fighting these people for the freedom of the Unas is such a good idea. He’s not convinced, though Daniel certainly is, that the Unas are _people._ After all, they say creatures like dolphins and octopi are brilliant, but nobody is comparing them to _human_ intelligence. Language exclusively does not a person make.

“No, no, this is different,” Daniel’s rebuttal is immediate and fierce; he turns towards Jack with open earnestness. “Chaka made a choice. Choice is freedom. These Unas have placed their allegiance in him because of that.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that they want to be free, they recognize what that means.”

“All he said was ‘Chaka zo’.” Jack snaps, though he’s aware of how dumb he might sound if that does mean something to the Unas, and Daniel isn’t just guessing. From the cells around them, the Unas echo the phrase again and again.

“I was wrong! Chaka—Chaka isn't different!” Daniel’s voice is starting to take on the slight tone of distress again, and Jack can feel himself getting tense. A subdued Daniel who was feeling bad about disobeying Jack’s orders was easy to corral in whatever escape or rescue Sam and Teal’c were able to mount. A distressed and righteous Daniel who thought he was doing the right thing…. “These Unas may have been born into domestication, but they still know what freedom means. They know it enough to want it.”

Crap. That’s the last thing he wanted Daniel to say. That’s sliding them back towards Daniel wanting to rescue all of the Unas, not just settling for getting Chaka and getting the hell out of dodge. Jack isn’t completely sure he’s _wrong_ , but he is sure he doesn’t want the complication of it when their lives are on the line. He tries to diffuse the situation. “You said yourself. This is their way of life here.”

“Well, it has to change.” Daniel’s voice is full of conviction.

“How?”

“Well, we've meddled in other planet's cultures before…”

“Well, now you're talking about moving in an army,” Jack growls, already knowing he’s lost this argument. Their escape has gotten a million times harder if Daniel can’t be persuaded to leave and await the General’s permission to return.

“I'd like to think that there was another way.” It’s the low, discouraged tone that gets to Jack. That’s the tone of a man who holds such strong convictions, but the people he’s working for are grinding them further and further into the dust at every turn. The tone of a man who had once never fired a gun at another living thing, who now nine times out of ten finds himself in the middle of a firefight instead of an archaeological dig. It’s a tone that tears into Jack’s heart because he never wanted to hear it in Daniel’s voice.

“Look,” he lowers his voice, trying to get and keep Daniel’s full attention. “In principle, I agree with you…” But he’s cut off, unable to finish his argument, when the door swings wide, admitting an Unas and a young boy. Jack has to catch his breath – what is this, some sort of Unas nanny? They’re beating these poor creatures in the street for not wanting to work in slave-like conditions, but yet some are so broken that they feel they can entrust them with the safety of their children?

Okay, Daniel has more than a point. This has too many parallels to Earth slavery, it’s wrong and Jack _knows_ it’s wrong. But he’s still not sure it’s their fight. The boy and his Lizard-person nanny walk right up to the bars of Jack’s cage and the little boy accuses him of hurting his dad – probably the one man he’d managed to shoot the night before, before he was zatted himself. A part of him is glad that the kid said “injured” and not “killed”, even as the tactical part of him wishes the man were dead so he couldn’t help keep them captive here (those are the sorts of thoughts he can never, ever share with Daniel - Daniel would never understand). All he can say to the child’s accusing face is, “I’m sorry.”

They sit in silence again until Carter checks in, with bad news. They can’t get to the Gate without casualties. Jack is trying to weigh that decision, the lives of these people who don’t know better against their likelihood of escape, but the heavy sound of approaching footsteps makes him demand radio silence and bury the radio back into the hay.

Burrock is back, and Daniel immediately engages him in argument. Jack approves – it’s as good a strategy as any to try and draw out more information from their captor, and it gives him the chance to study the man and try to find a weakness. He claims their ‘crime’ of stealing Chaka can be punishable by death, but if it were that easy, he would have already killed them. Another small advantage in their favor.

Unfortunately, Daniel’s arguments quickly wind up the beastmaster and not in a good way. Daniel’s voice is getting more desperate, more unhappy, and Jack decides to interfere and divert the angry man’s attention. “Look, we're not going to tell you anything, so you might as well just let us go. We'll go back to where we came from, you can go on doing what you do so well.”

Burrock quickly turns on him, waddling over imperiously. “Because now I know for certain, there is more out there.”

“Yeah, I know, the grass always looks cleaner. Fact is, there's a whole bunch of bad guys with glowing eyes out there, and you really don't wanna mess with them.” It’s flippant, off the cuff, but he’s hoping it will succeed where Daniel’s heartfelt argument did not. Burrock draws closer and closer, something cold and oily in his pudgy gaze, and Jack swears silently in his head. He’s seen that look on captors before. Without batting an eyelash, the man lifts the Goa’uld pain-stick he carries and touches it to the door; white-hot pain immediately flares up all over Jack’s body, spreading from the leg chain and shackle, and he collapses with a cry, unable to do anything else.

“Stop!” he can just barely hear Daniel’s shout of panicked anger over the wash of incandescent pain, which abruptly stops though the after-shocks leave him lying helpless on the floor. “He’s not going to tell you anything!”

Then it’s Daniel crying out, a short sharp sound before he collapses as well. You can’t scream under the influence of a pain-stick and Jack can’t get his feet under him to turn over and look, but the eerie sound of sizzling metal and skin and the unique energy discharge of the pain-stick tells him that Burrock isn’t letting up. 5 seconds becomes 10 as the Unas around him growl and yell and rattle their bars and Burrock demands their silence. An icy fist is squeezing Jack’s heart – humans were not meant to take such prolonged abuse from an instrument of torture designed for Jaffa (and probably, come to think of it, Unas). They have not discovered the exact limits of the human body, but he knows Daniel will be reaching it.

15 seconds tick by and Burrock cannot take the defiance of the Unas any longer. He turns from the attack on Daniel, walks over to the still growling Unas, raises Jack’s gun, and empties the clip into the poor creature. The remaining Unas lift their voices in their strange mourning cry, and Burrock aims the rifle at another Unas.

Somehow, even though he’d been under the influence of the pain stick longer and more recently than Jack, Daniel manages to roll to his knees and scream his protest against another death. Jack has not been so relieved to hear the hollow click of an empty gun in a long, long time. Burrock starts to expound on the value of the P-90, walking over to ask Jack to reload it.

Not a chance in hell. Fighting through the still-heavy fog of pain, he mumbles, “Give it to me, and I’ll show you.”

“It was simple enough to learn how to shoot it.” Burrock shrugs indifferently. “I will learn this part on my own as well. In the meantime, hunger and thirst will weaken you. Perhaps tomorrow, you will tell me what I want to know. I do not understand why, but it seems that you care for Beasts more than you care for your own well-being.” He wanders over to Daniel. “So be it. Every morning and every night I will come in here to learn what you know. If you do not tell me, I will kill a Beast. It may cost me, but I believe it may be worth it. Until tonight.”

He walks out, leaving them still reeling from the pain-stick and the senseless violence. An empty, heavy silence settles over the barn. Jack doesn’t bother trying to move until the click of the radio on and off gets his attention. “Yeah, Carter? I got ya.” Slowly, he rolls over and sits up.

“ _Sir, what's your status? We heard shooting.”_

“We're all right.” He glances across just to make sure, sweeping a fast and assessing look over Daniel, who is propped up against the bars of his own cage looking dazed and pissed off. “One of the Unas took a hit.”

“ _Chaka?”_

“No, he's okay.” Thank whatever gods were actually listening, or lady luck, because Chaka not being the one gunned down is probably all that’s still holding Daniel together. “I thought I told you to hold your position at the Gate.”

“ _Yes, Sir. However, Teal'c thinks we might be able to create a big enough distraction to attempt a rescue, and I agree. But, we can't guarantee zero casualties. If that's still your concern, please advise. Over.”_

He looks over at Daniel again. “I don't think we're going to talk our way out of this one.”

“Well, for once, I'm not asking us to.” The silent screaming has roughened his partner’s voice and his eyes are closed as he lets the cage take his weight, and the emotionless quality of his voice is painful to hear.

Jack needs to get his hands on Daniel and assess how much of it is pain, and how much of it is emotional, but they’re separated by two cages of Unas, lots of chains and locks, and the angry words he’s already spoken today. He has to settle for muttering a very sincere, “Dammit, Daniel.” It’s very different from all of the recriminations of earlier, and Daniel knows it.

“Let's get out of here,” Daniel’s eyes open slowly, and he’s pouring a million things he can’t say into the look, already knowing that Jack’s going to give in to his next request after everything that’s happened. He already knows that Jack wouldn’t force him to leave Chaka behind, and if they’re breaking one Unas out of prison, they might as well take three. “All of us.”

“ _Sir, still awaiting your orders.”_

“Yeah. We've got three Unas who are going to be joining us. Do what you have to do, Carter.”

* * *

The escape had gone relatively well, all things considered. None of SG-1 had sustained any more injuries beyond scrapes and bruises, and they’d only lost one of the three Unas (though Daniel feels guilty for being relieved it wasn’t Chaka).

Jack was still going to kill him.

The click of shoes on linoleum draws closer and he forces himself to sit down just as Janet sweeps the curtain aside, looking up at him from her clipboard full of notes. “Well, Daniel, your test results are all normal. And given everything that happened, your injuries are all fairly mild. I’m enforcing downtime for SG-1 for the next four days, but you’re free to go and nurse your wounds at home.” She smiles a little. “Let me know if you have any issues that don’t resolve over the next couple of days.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he gives her a little teasing smile, hiding his nerves behind a chuckle when she gives him a sardonic look. The issues he has to resolve in the next four days aren’t going to have anything to do with his singed fingers, residual muscle aches, minor twisted ankle, or fun bruises. Janet pats his shoulder and leaves, so Daniel pulls his fatigue jacket back on and leaves the infirmary. There’s nothing in his office he needs, so he heads for the locker room, which is deserted. He was the last one out of the infirmary, and it appears his teammates didn’t waste any time taking Janet and Hammond up on the four days off.

When he opens his locker, he’s greeted by a fluorescent blue post-it at eye level. Three words, ‘DINNER. BRING DESSERT.’ are scrawled on it in Jack’s handwriting. Daniel winces. It’s not a request, it’s an obvious order, just disguised as something that wouldn’t look unusual if someone else had seen it over Daniel’s shoulder.

The guilt is starting to weigh heavily on him, so he drags his feet a little as he changes out of his BDUs and makes his way unmolested to the surface and his car. The gloom on his face must discourage people from trying to make small talk with him. As he gets into his car, he considers just going to his own home. It would only buy him a couple of hours though, maybe the night, and then Jack would just show up. Still, depending on whether Jack has cooled off any, a couple of hours might be worth it.

Cruising down the highway, Daniel searches his memory, trying to remember if Jack made any....unfortunate.... ‘promises’ about the next time he put them all in danger disobeying orders. There’s nothing specific that comes to mind other than the standing threat of Jack’s evil wooden spoon. As he pulls into the bakery parking lot and climbs out of his car, Daniel casts his mind back to the previous weekend and tries to envision the crock of cookware on Jack’s counter. Had the large wooden spoon made a reappearance? The last time Daniel saw it, it had been the morning after the last time Jack had used it on him; Daniel had been making coffee while Jack was in the shower and his butt had still been sore. In a fit of petulance, he’d taken the particular wooden spoon Jack had used every time and hidden it.

Jack had never mentioned it since, and after a few days, Daniel had forgotten he’d done anything until this moment.

He picks out an apple pie from the bakery counter, checks out in a sort of fog, and gets back in his car with a sigh. The clock is inching towards seven pm, so he bites the bullet and pulls back out onto the road to make the short drive to Jack’s house. There’s welcoming, warm light pouring out of the windows onto the yard and the front walk, and even though his stomach is still knotted up with anxiety, the feeling of coming home spreads through him and makes him smile a little.

The door is unlocked as per Jack’s usual, and he doesn’t bother knocking. Just inside the door, he kicks off his shoes and pads into the kitchen to put the pie on the counter. There’s something in the oven which smalls delicious and makes his stomach growl hungrily, but no sign of his colonel. He turns around to glance into the living room but it’s empty too, and if Jack had been up with the telescope he would have called out when Daniel parked.

As he leaves the kitchen and turns the corner towards the bedroom, the bathroom door opens. For a moment they simply stand in the hallway and look at each other; both remembering vividly the past few days. Daniel looks away first, glancing back the way he came. “Uh. Dinner smells good.”

Jack crosses his arms and props a shoulder up against the doorframe and makes a noise of acknowledgment, but Daniel can feel Jack’s eyes still locked on his face. When he drags his gaze back up, his partner’s brown eyes are assessing him, soul-searching. He doesn’t look as pissed off as he had at many points during their most recently ended disaster of a mission, but he doesn’t look happy either. “Dinner first, or discussion first?”

Involuntarily, Daniel’s face scrunches up in consternation. There’s approximately zero chance that Jack means discussion with words, and the euphemism is not lost on him, but as a linguist, he wants to protest the abuse of the language. Or maybe not; if he objects to the invented synonym, he doesn’t put it past Jack to just start using mortifying words like “spanking” instead.

“Um….” He considers the cold lump of shame that’s suppressing his appetite, weighs it against the desire to put off all possibility of actually being spanked as long as possible, and sighs. Dinner had smelled so nice; it would be a shame to waste Jack’s efforts because he was too guilty to eat anything. “’Discussion’, I guess,” he grumbles.

“Okay, Danny.” There’s just the barest hint of wry affection underneath his displeasure as Jack straightens. “I’m going to turn the oven off. I’ll be back in a minute.” Jack lays a warm hand on his shoulder as he walks past, giving it a brief squeeze and then vanishing around the corner. Daniel forces his body into action and meanders down to the bedroom, perching hesitantly at the end of the bed.

The bedroom is too far from the kitchen, he can’t hear anything Jack is doing, which makes time seem to stall uncomfortably. He doesn’t really have time to get any more anxious, as Jack walks in just a moment later. Daniel opens his mouth to say something, though honestly, he hasn’t quite figured out what. He ends up snapping his mouth shut on a deep frown when he notices that Jack hasn’t come empty-handed. Which is odd, because Jack doesn’t have hair of any notable length, so what does he need a hairbrush for?

“Jack?”

“Daniel?”

“Why do you have that?”

“This?” Daniel’s brows are deeply furrowed, and he can’t seem to look away from the hairbrush as Jack lifts it up, contemplating it for a moment as if it’s the first time he’s seen it too, before meeting Daniel’s gaze steadily. “Well, Daniel, it seems that the spoon I usually use is missing.”

“J-jack…” He climbs to his feet and moves a few steps towards the windows, away from the bed and away from Jack.

“It’s fine. This is a family heirloom, and it’s tanned plenty of bottoms just as effectively as any old kitchen utensil.” Jack, purposefully misinterpreting his alarm, sounds almost cheerful. Daniel, staring at the hairbrush, doesn’t feel cheerful at all. It’s got at least twice the surface area of the spoon and is a dark mahogany color with the soft shine that comes with decades of use rather than a quick application of glossy lacquer.

“I don’t think you need either,” he manages, though even to himself his voice sounds faint and unconvinced. “Just your hand is sufficient.”

Jack drops the fake cheer and pins him with a hard look. “Would you care to count how many direct orders you ignored the past two days? And how many times doing so put you directly in danger? How many times it ended up with the rest of us directly in danger?”

Daniel shakes his head.

“I didn’t think so. Do you think you shouldn’t get spanked for it?”

He bites his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, and gives an even smaller shake of his head. Jack sits down on the side of the bed and places the hairbrush down behind his hip. Shifting, he gets comfortable with his feet flat on the ground and then crooks a finger at Daniel. “C’mere, kid.”

Ignoring the rampaging rhinos in his stomach, Daniel sidles over to Jack, who reaches out and snags his waistband to tug him the rest of the way when his nerve fails him. While he unbuttons and unzips Daniel’s pants, he starts speaking in a low, even tone. “I understand that Chaka is your friend, Daniel. I never wanted to have to leave him there either,” he lowers Daniel’s pants and underwear, and then warm hands guide Daniel down over Jack’s lap. Those hands and Jack’s voice ground Daniel, whose mind is spinning and fuzzy.

“But, we could have found a safer way to do it.” One of Jack’s hands is wrapped securely around his waist, and the other falls with the first, stinging spank on the crest of Daniel’s bottom. It’s followed by a dozen more, which is enough to leave his butt stinging. Jack pauses, hand resting on Daniel’s thigh below where he’s smacked.

“It was one thing to change the play in the village,” despite clearly considering this a minor offense, Jack lifts his hand and applies it with vigor, landing another couple of dozen swats that leave Daniel squirming a little in his grasp. “But for cryin’ out loud, Daniel, when the rescue went south, you broke every promise you made, not to mention every protocol we have!”

Jack’s hand falls again, and he gives up his scolding and concentrates on spanking, landing fast and stinging smacks methodically all over Daniel’s butt, painting it a dark pink bordering on red from the crest all the way down to the tops of his thighs. Jack is starting at the top of one cheek and working down to his sit-spots and the top of his thighs, and then repeating the pattern on the other side. Resisting the urge to cry, Daniel can’t quite form any words, just whine under his breath and occasionally yelp when a spank lands particularly true.

On the next circuit, Daniel kicks his legs a little, involuntarily, and tugs the comforter into a ball in his arms so he can bury his face in it. Jack doesn’t pause this time when he speaks, enunciating words clearly between swats. “Daniel, you could have died! Again! Chaka was making his own choice when he stayed behind, and the risks you took with all of our lives were unacceptable.”

Then Jack stops, his now hot palm resting back on Daniel’s bare thigh. For a long moment, he says nothing; Daniel can feel the tears scratchy and suffocating in the back of his throat and hot behind his eyes, but he’s still stiff and feeling awful, the memory of Jack being zatted and tortured with the pain-stick replaying in his head. He knows he’s still spiraling, but it’s out of his control. On the very edge of his awareness, he hears Jack, as if from far away, when his partner sighs. “You’re not there yet, are you kid?”

The words themselves don’t have a lot of meaning to Daniel right this moment, but the guilt rises dark and swallowing and he gives a completely ineffectual heave against Jack’s hold, a half-hearted attempt to escape. Some part of him buried deep worries that Jack’s done, and he panics because the guilt hasn’t been vanquished. “I did what I had to do!” he mutters.

“Well, then I guess I will do what I have to do, Daniel.” Jack shifts underneath him, adjusts his restraining hand to grab Daniel’s wrist and bring it to the center of his back, and then something cool and flatter than Jack’s hands taps once, twice on Daniel’s butt before there’s a sharp crack, and he jerks and yelps, kicking both legs in instant protest. He had completely forgotten about the hairbrush and now he is wishing he hadn’t – it hurts way more than he remembers the spoon feeling, and it’s covering more ground. “O-ow! Wait, no, J-jack,” the tears well up in his eyes immediately as his voice rises in distress.

He squirms hard, kicking out both legs in an embarrassing parody of swimming, as the brush comes down in the same pattern Jack had established with his hand – the crest of his left cheek, then the middle twice, then down directly onto the place where his butt meets his thigh, and then once at the very sensitive top of his thigh; then starting over on the right. Each smack _hurts_ and for a minute he is breathless to do anything but struggle and try to plead.

Jack ignores all of this and starts a second round with the brush – when he brings it down twice in the middle of Daniel’s left butt cheek he gasps out, “I’m s-sorry! J’ck I won’t d-do it agAIN!” and when the brush reaches his left thigh he gives in to the tears, collapsing over Jack’s lap and letting the sobs overtake him.

Briefly squeezing the wrist in his grasp, and his thumb moving gently against Daniel’s back where his shirt has ridden up, Jack murmurs, “That’s it, Danny, let it go. Five more.” Without changing his pace or intensity in the slightest, he brings the brush down exactly five more times from top to bottom on the right side to finish his circuit and then tosses the brush onto the bed somewhere behind them. Murmuring meaningless reassurance, he slides a hand under Daniel’s shirt to rub slow, deep circles on his back while using his other hand to massage Daniel’s hand where it had been clenched hard or straining to reach back since the brush started to fall.

When the tears start to slow and he catches his breath, Daniel pushes himself up from Jack’s lap and starts to pull back, but his partner catches him and pulls him over between his legs, wrapping his arms around him so that Daniel can bury his face in Jack’s shoulder and Jack can keep up his steady, reassuring stroking from the back of Daniel’s neck down to just above where he had been spanking. “Yeah, let go, Danny. No more guilt.”

Though the sobs have turned into a near-silent stream of tears down his cheeks, Daniel’s voice isn’t quite steady. “I’m sorry, J’ck. I r-really didn’t mean to get us int-to t-that much trouble, I j-just was s-so _worried_.”

Jack presses his head down alongside Daniel’s, which is nice and Daniel hums a little bit of his approval. “Let it go, it’s over,” he says quietly, and adjusts his grip to lift Daniel just a foot or so back, wiping tears off of his face and leaning in to gently kiss his forehead. “You’re forgiven. It’s okay, Dannyboy. You just have to find a little more control over your worse impulses. We can’t afford to lose you, kid.”

They sit there for a long while, until well after Daniel’s tears have dried and he’s simply soaking up the cuddle, arms wrapped around Jack’s waist and face pressed into his shoulder. Eventually, though, Jack drums his fingers on the small of Daniel’s back and says quietly, “Why don’t you crawl up here and veg for a minute, and I’ll go salvage dinner?”  
  
Daniel’s stomach grumbles as if on cue, and though he blushes a dark red and squeezes his eyes shut, he works with Jack as his colonel pulls him to his feet and helps him kick off his pants and underthings and lay face down on his stomach with only a little bit of a whine as his hot and smarting backside stretches and moves. He leans his head into the firm tug of fingers in his hair, making a sound akin to a purring cat; then as Jack makes to pull away, he slits his eyes open and peers up at him.  
  
“Jack?”

“Yeah, Danny?” he turns back to the bed and runs his fingers once more through Daniel’s hair.

“The spoon is behind your vinyl collection.” He hated it, but he can officially say he hated the hairbrush more and he doesn’t want to encounter it again. The guilt is well and truly gone, but he doesn’t think he’s going to sit comfortably for a month. “Maybe you could get it back out instead?”


	18. Snippet: Proving Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack comes to a few realizations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S5E13 "Proving Ground". 
> 
> We all know we're rapidly coming up to "Menace" and "Meridian" which are angsty enough on their own, and the thoughts in my head building up to Daniel making the choice he does in Meridian are worse. It might take me a while to get the words down the way I want them, so if you're reading, please bear with me and be patient! I know my updates have gotten slower.

He’s going to have to apologize, which is not his favorite activity.

Most of the SGC hates recruit training days – it makes their day-to-day job harder as they remember to play the roles that have been proscribed for them, while still keeping the base running. Jack likes to set up the elaborate scenarios and get a feel for their new recruits, and he knows Teal’c also enjoys the challenge of keeping trainees on their toes. Carter hasn’t ever seemed to express an opinion one way or another, but he thinks she secretly enjoys it.

Daniel’s a whole other story.

His partner understands the value of the simulations in testing the mettle of the recruits; he even mostly understands why Jack likes to be personally involved. What he constantly complains about, however, is Jack’s need to keep Daniel involved. He asks every time why Jack can’t just play his “war games” with the soldiers and leave Daniel to his backlog of translations and artifacts.

Jack has lots of reasons. Amongst his favorites are ‘everyone knows you’re part of SG-1 so it’s not believable without you’ and ‘we’re using it as extra training time for SG-1’. Hammond has taken his side every time Daniel brought it up, and so this time the archaeologist didn’t bother to take his objections to the General. Realistically, his reasons are more selfish. You could say that he wants their civilian to have every minute of training available in hopes it will make him less vulnerable off-world, but to be completely honest, he just likes having Daniel around.

Not bothering to protest to the General hadn’t kept Daniel from complaining about it for a solid week leading up to the main event. Jack had assured him that his role would be fairly small, allowing him to spend most of his time sitting in the General’s office working on whatever he wanted.

He’d also told Danny this morning that the recruits would have orders to capture, not shoot, the ‘invasion’s’ leader. But the colonel has to admit, he let his annoyance with his partner’s complaints all week about how much he hated these exercises get to him; when the time came, he let them plan to take out Daniel and even had them complete all of their tasks with their Intars on max power. It seemed like a funny joke, at the time, since he knew no real harm would be caused.

Daniel hadn’t seen the humor in it – at all. While Jack tied up loose ends around the base and got things set back to rights for the coming days, he’d gone home. Without a word to Jack. To his apartment, not Jack’s house, leaving Jack to trail after him when he finally realizes he’s already gone.

Jack doesn’t pick up any food, not because he’s not hungry but because when Daniel’s mad, he often cooks. So if Jack can talk his way inside, he’ll get something home-cooked and delicious instead of takeout. Coming empty-handed wasn’t a good plan either, so he’d stopped for wine. Standing in the aisle he realized that he didn’t know what Daniel was cooking, and if Danny was _really_ mad, the wrong type of wine would just be an excuse to refuse the peace offering. In the end, he grabs a red and a white and gets back in the truck.

His first knock goes unanswered, but he can hear someone moving around inside. Jack knocks again, harder, and calls through the door. “Daniel, c’mon.”

A moment, and then footsteps. The door swings inward, but Daniel doesn’t immediately step out of the way so that Jack can come in. “Jack.”

“Daniel.”

His linguist frowns at him, those deep lines appearing between his eyebrows, wrapping his arms around his body; but he says nothing.

Jack lifts the bag from the liquor store and holds it up, giving it a little swing. Daniel doesn’t even look at the bribe; his eyes are still on Jack’s face, assessing. Not breaking eye contact, Jack waits him out. He’s rewarded a moment later when Daniel reaches out and takes the bag and disappears into the apartment.

Suppressing a satisfied smirk, Jack follows him inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. The house is mostly dark, but there are lights on in the kitchen. There’s not a lot of room in Daniel’s strange little kitchen, so he props himself up against the opening in the wall and waits.

Instead of acknowledging him, Daniel puts the red wine on the counter and the white away, and returns to making whatever it is he’s making, slamming his pots and pans and utensils around just a little bit too forcefully. He successfully ignores Jack until he needs something from the fridge. By the time he goes to walk past, Jack’s lost his patience for the waiting game and grabs his shoulders, holding him in place. “ _Daniel_.”

He just shakes his head, still frowning.

“C’mon, Danny. It was a one Intar blast.” A pretty mild toll, all things considered. These scenarios typically take a lot more out of them when the recruits are less talented than this lot. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Jack, it’s not just today.” He pushes away, opening the fridge to retrieve the tupperware-style container and the package of pita pockets. But the dam is open, and as he walks back to the counter, he keeps talking. “Today was just the tipping point. If you had told them to capture me, they would have. But you didn’t. For whatever reason, you _wanted_ them to stun me.”

The look he throws Jack briefly over his shoulder punches him in the gut because he can’t deny that he’d gotten a sort of perverse entertainment out of it – and he’d be damned if he knows why. If anyone else had suggested that they stun any member of SG-1 – but most especially Daniel – for no real good reason, he’d have been pissed. He’s also guilty of breaking his word. Since he’d promised the no-kill order that morning, Daniel hadn’t been expecting the stun.

“I shouldn’t have even really been on this exercise. I know you’ve got this thing about SG-1 doing everything together, but I need our mission-free time to work on all of the translations and studies that nobody else can handle, not to mention supervising my department and helping them when they get stuck.”

Daniel’s leaning forward a bit over the counter, and takes a deep breath that Jack can see from behind before turning around to stare hard at him. “That’s the norm, now, Jack, more often than not. You actively find things for us to do when we’re on base that cut into my ability to do my work. And when we’re off-world, you’ve been quicker and quicker to growl and belittle and accuse.”

He can’t find the words to deny it and realizes with a sense of acute discomfort that that’s probably because there’s a lot of truth to what Daniel is saying. Which was absolutely never his intention – the last thing he wants is to push his best friend and lover away. That he’s been doing so subconsciously is something he’ll need to examine closely later.

Worse is that some of it hasn’t been subconscious – some of his attitude at work has been deliberate, a carefully crafted ruse to keep from treating Daniel in any way at work that might clue in the people around them that they are more than friends. Somehow, doing that, he’s managed to treat him worse than when they _were_ just friends.

“Daniel…” he trails off, shaking his head, and walks over to box his partner in against the counter. Daniel’s not looking at him, still frowning and chewing his lip, unsure of the reception of his accusation. Clearly, he’s had it bottled up for a while, and Jack’s treatment of him today was just too much. Jack lifts a hand and lays it against Daniel’s cheek, lifting his face up so their eyes meet again. “I’m sorry,” he leans in slowly, pressing his lips to his partner’s forehead. “I didn’t realize.”

He knows he’ll have to do better. Daniel’s friendship is contingent on his trust, and their complicated relationship is even more so. Keeping the secret of their relationship, however necessary that is, is enough strain on his nearly pathologically honest boy, they don’t need anything else to try and tear holes in their relationship.

It’s endearing that even with everything they’ve done behind closed doors, that simple action is enough to make Daniel flush bright red. “Well, now you know,” he mumbles, and he ducks his chin as soon as Jack lets go of his face.

Pressing his advantage, Jack runs his hands down Daniel’s sides with light pressure, and is glad that his lover only gives the slightest flinch when his hand skims over his hip – probably just some bruising from where he fell when he was stunned. Leaning in again, he lowers his voice so Daniel can’t pull away and hope to hear him. “I can kiss it better later.”

“Dinner first,” Daniel says firmly, but he’s a little out of breath and still flushed. He’s easy – and fun – to get flustered. Jack lets himself be shoved away and then accepts the dish of what appears to be Shawarma ingredients he is handed and takes them to the table while Daniel reaches up into the cabinets for plates and glasses. Later is fine – no reason to waste what promises to be a tasty dinner. They have plenty of time.


	19. Summit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which issues between the boys start to surface, and the Tok'ra plan falls through as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S5E15 (“Summit”) & S5E16 (“Last Stand”). Episode summaries in the endnotes. 
> 
> From here, the boys are in for a rough ride for the rest of season five. 🥺😬
> 
> As usual, any dialogue you recognize from the show directly isn't mine, I'm just playing in the sandbox.

Before Teal'c came by, he hadn't made a decision. Ren'al wasn't exactly one of the Tok'ra he particularly well after the za'tarc incident, and she hadn't exactly given them a lot of information to go on. She had a lot of reasons, and a lot of information to impart, but the actual plan-based details were rather spare. Supposedly Jacob would have the details when they arrived on Revanna, but Daniel would have felt better about it if Jacob had come to the base, where they could ask all their questions before embarking. 

After he leaves the briefing room, he retreats to his office and pulls out some unfinished translations in various Goa'uld dialects. If he's going to be expected to be fluent enough to pass as a valued human slave living amongst the Goa'uld, brushing up tonight is not going to hurt. 

Teal'c, unsurprisingly, had come directly to the point and asked Daniel what he thought about the plan. This is one of those missions where they have to remember that while the Jaffa has become a keystone member of SG-1 and their very good friend, he'd left his people and joined the SGC because of the fight against the Goa'uld. He might not like the idea of Daniel going to this Goa'uld summit alone, but he stands with the Tok'ra in that he would be willing to allow the risk of death to one individual to strike such a decisive blow, even if he would mourn Daniel's death. 

Daniel's next visitor will not feel the same way. 

Sometime after Teal'c leaves, Jack wanders in and comes around to Daniel's side of the desk, peering down at the spread of papers covered in Goa'uld writing that is indecipherable to him. Daniel finishes the one he's working on, silently forming each word in his mouth and imagining the way the syllables will come off of his tongue, before setting it down, peering at his partner over the top of his glasses.

Jack glances down at the papers and then up to meet his eyes. "Daniel."

"Jack?"

The colonel plants one hip against the side of the desk and shoves his hands in his pockets, eyebrows drawn down into a familiar scowl. "I hear you told the General you're on board with the Tok'ra plan."

"Well, I certainly would like the rest of the information Ren'al didn't give us before we commit to anything," Daniel turns in his chair towards Jack, "but if it will be as crippling to the Goa'uld as she claims, I don't see how I could not be."

"I don't like it." Jack's scowl grows, if anything, deeper. Daniel can't help but tilt his head a little and give his partner a disapproving look.

"You're suspicious of the Tok'ra by default now, Jack. They're our allies, we're working towards the same goals."

"They tend to be a little too accepting of personnel losses for my taste." Jack turns a little more towards Daniel, and the look in his eyes is heated. They'd already decided, the whole team, to stay on base for the night, but that look says that if they'd gone home, they might be having an entirely different type of conversation. Daniel tries not to think about it because he needs to focus on his Goa'uld studies and getting a good night's rest before they ship out tomorrow; thinking about Jack in that mood would not be conducive. 

Just thinking about  _ not _ thinking about it, his skin feels flushes and his heart beats a little faster. 

All he can do here on base is to meet his partner's eyes and smile a little, trying to wordlessly convey his affection alongside his exasperation with Jack's overprotective nature. "Let's just see what Jacob has to say before you take a stand over this, okay?"

* * *

It's been playing over and over again in his head - his next private conversation with Jack. He's not entirely sure, it  _ might _ have just been the heat of the moment, but he's afraid they may have just broken up. It feels bigger than just another argument; deeper and more hurtful. 

_ Jack had cornered him as he rifled through his pack, trying to find the right scroll to check some last-minute grammar nuances of one of the Goa'uld dialects he speaks less fluently.  _

_ "I still don't like this." Jack declares, hands on his hips. He's abandoned his weapon and pack in another corner of this same room, feeling safe here like they all do amongst these allies.  _

_ Daniel sighs and straightens, abandoning his search. "Jack, nobody else can pull this off." _

_ "And? So? Therefore?" Jack's sarcasm is at its most biting when confronted with fear and worry, so Daniel tries not to let this affect him.  _

_ "So, if I'm the only one who can do it, I don't have much choice." _

_ "We always have a choice. We can let SG-17 finish their orientation and go home." _

_ "We're not going to do that, Jack. This opportunity is too good to pass up. You heard Jacob. You know he wouldn't put me at risk if it wasn't important." _

_ "Well, Jake's idea of acceptable risk and mine are not the same. I think Selmak is rubbing off on him, with that sacrifice-acceptable-for-the-greater-good-bullshit." This is rich, coming from Jack, who would absolutely give his own life for the 'greater good', but steadfastly refuses to risk Daniel's. Pointing this out, Daniel knows, won't get him anywhere.  _

_ "Jack..." The irritation of Jack not letting him do his part to help save the galaxy is brushing up right alongside with the warm feeling of knowing that the reason Jack doesn't want him to go is because he's worried about his safety.  _

He grasps at anything to distract himself from the rest of this memory, hearing Jacob moving around in the front compartment of the ship behind him. They're in the Tel'tak, just the two of them, changing into their outfits for their roles as Goa'uld and Lo'taur as they are quickly approaching Yu's ship. "So why do the System Lords need human attendants?"

"Well, the Jaffa serve as strictly military function. Besides, if the host of a System Lord is ever injured beyond a symbiotes capacity to heal, it can be pretty useful to have a human close at hand."

That sounds awful and ominous. A part of him wants to turn around, go back to Revanna, tell Jack he was right about everything, and forget this ever happened. A bigger part of him knows that nobody else can do this task except him. He owes it to humanity. To Sha're. "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," he murmurs.

"Are you clear on all the backgrounds of the System Lords?" 

"Oh yeah," Daniel sighs, not turning around to look at Jacob as he concentrates on the last few closures of his top, "I'm fine."

"Good, we'll be at Yu's homeworld in a little over an hour." Jacob had started to walk away but then seems to think better of it. Daniel can hear that he's stopped moving. "Are you all right, Daniel?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine." Daniel's not fine, far from it, and something must come through in his stiff tone. 

"Listen, if you're not 100% committed to this mission, I need to know."

He can't very well tell Jacob that he's not 100% committed to this mission because his lover doesn't want him on it, but he's still feeling a little raw after the argument he and Jack had, and he can't summon the rampant enthusiasm Jacob seems to be expecting. He needs to come up with a good cover story. "I just think some of your details are a little...," he steels himself as he turns around to play this part, "sketchy."

"Like what?" Jacob sounds a little offended; Daniel has to wonder if that's Selmak or Jacob. The Tok'ra rarely speaks through his host when they're with SG-1, knowing that Jack and Sam prefer to speak to Sam's dad, but from everything Jacob has told him, he's actually formed quite a tight bond with his symbiote, and Daniel sometimes doubts that Selmak is truly quiet for long swaths of time like it appears.

"Well, you're going to use poison to wipe out the Goa'uld, right?" Daniel latches onto his biggest reservation about this plan, knowing that it will throw Jacob off the trail of anything more emotional. 

"Eventually."

Leaning back against the trunk where he'd gotten his Lo'taur clothing, Daniel lowers his voice to gentle recrimination and asks, "What about the Jaffa?"

"Well, that's still a bit of a wrinkle." Jacob tries to sound matter-of-fact about it, but as he walks over to Daniel there's something understanding and tender in the look he gives him. It softens a little bit of the jagged hurt Jack had left behind because Daniel knows that only he or Sam would ever really see that side of Jacob. "Unless we can find a way to reverse their biological dependency on immature symbiotes, they'll all die as well."

"A  _ bit _ of a wrinkle," Daniel responds dejectedly, more than a little horrified at the thought of losing Teal'c and all of his people. 

"Danny, the Goa'uld have been spreading like a plague across the galaxy for thousands of years." There's another subtle hint of affection under Jacob's stern tone; only Jack and Jacob ever call him 'Danny', and Jack only in private. Before them, the last people to use it had been his parents. (Now he wonders if Jacob will be the only one who uses it). "Now for the first time, they're showing zero population growth. We're not sure why. But we intend to take advantage of the situation. We may never get a chance like this again. Are we good to go?"

Daniel might have stood firm against the idea of genocide, even if it meant defeating the Goa'uld for good. But Danny...Danny lets himself be convinced by this person he trusts that this is really for the greater good. He nods at Jacob and quietly agrees, "Yeah."

Jacob walks back to the controls, and silence fills the cargo hold. Daniel's traitorous mind helpfully restarts the unwelcome memory where they'd left off. 

_ "I don't want you to do this." Jack steps closer to him, putting Daniel's back against the cold stone wall as he leans in. Daniel's pinned on his right side by the corner and his left by Jack propping his arm up next to his shoulder, clearly confident that nobody is about to walk into this deserted chamber near the rings.  _

_ "I know," he responds quietly, "Jack..." Jack is close enough that he can feel his welcome body heat against the chill of the Tok'ra tunnels, and feel his breath against his face. _

_ "Don't do this." Jack's voice is low, heavy; "I can make it an order."  _

_ That, rather than persuasive, is irritating. It breaks Daniel out of the spell of body heat and almost-touching that Jack wove for them. "Well, good thing the general left the decision up to me then," Daniel snaps, frowning up at Jack now. "God, Jack, we just talked about this. You have to let me do my job." _

_ "So your job is to die now, is that it?" Jack growls. _

_ "Jack..." Daniel closes his eyes, counts to ten. _

_ "I think I should get a say," Jack argues. "Isn't that a building block in a good relationship, like you keep telling me? Communication?" _

_ "For the sake of our relationship, and the team, you have to let me do my job!" Daniel plants a hand on Jack's chest and gives him a little shove. "Can't you trust me, Jack?" _

_ Something in Jack's face shutters, goes hard, and Daniel's heart skips a beat. Jack straightens, drawing away from him. "No." _

_ He doesn't sound at all uncertain about that. It hurts to draw his next breath, and Daniel has to force words out past the choking feeling in his throat. "Maybe...maybe we shouldn't be in a relationship, then." As soon as the words leave his mouth, he wants to take them back, but it's too late. He reaches out to grab Jack, but Jack has already stepped back out of reach.  _

_ "No." The word is hard, clipped. "Maybe we shouldn't."  _

_ "Wait, Jack...," his hand clenches uselessly in the air and he drops it to his side, voice small even to his own ears. "I didn't mean it like that..." _

_ Jack shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his head, his gaze cold where it's still resting on Daniel's face. There's a physical distance between them, but the sudden emotional distance is overwhelming. "Don't die, Daniel. The paperwork is a real drag." He turns and walks away, leaving Daniel blinking back tears, trying to understand what just happened.  _

Then Jacob had walked in, just like he walks into the hold now, talking about the mission. Daniel's feeling alternatively cold and numb, and furious and heartbroken, but he forces back the sting of tears in the here and now (passing it off as blinking against his uncomfortable contacts again) and welcomes the numbness. It's too late to turn back now.

* * *

Everything was going fine...until it wasn't. Which could easily be the description of every single one of their joint missions and projects with the Tok'ra. Jack is never going to let him live this down. 

Or, he wouldn't have, if they were on teasing terms. Daniel takes a step back from that aching chasm of pain and uncertainty, swallowing hard and raising the communicator. "Jacob! You still there?"

"Yeah." Jacob sounds anxious, which Daniel sympathizes with at this point. "What happened?"

"Uhhh...Osiris and I kind of got into it...but the chemical worked." He'd almost forgotten he had the ring on and had said a little prayer as he grabbed her hand that it wasn't a single-use item. 

"Why didn't you just release the poison?" Daniel doesn't answer right away and there's only a long pause before Jacob queries again, sounding slightly irritated. "Daniel?"

"Because I would have killed Sarah," he admits, and can almost imagine Jack and Jacob's matching expressions of exasperation; can hear the beginning of a lecture on following orders. Eager to avoid that, though Jacob usually saves his blistering admonishments for after missions, he rushes on. "There's got to be a way we can save her, right? You've taken symbiotes out of the host without killing them before."

"We'd have to get her out of there first."

"So?" It's one thing to accept that most of the System Lords' hosts are thousands or millions of years old, ravaged by the sarcophagus, and unable to even consider returning to normal lives. Daniel can't quite form the same detachment when it comes to Sarah; his friend whom he knows exactly how long she's been a host. She's redeemable.

He couldn't save Sha're. But he could still save Sarah.

"Daniel. There's a bigger picture here. You have to release the poison. Do it now." No Danny now, Daniel notes, Jacob is fully focused on the mission and determined to see it through. "You know what's at stake Daniel, no single person's life is more important. Complete your mission."

He was going to do it, too. He waits until they're back in their group meeting, everyone gathered in one room. Ren'al was fairly certain that the poison would have worked no matter where they each were on the ship, but he doesn't see any reason to take chances. 

He was going to do it, but the plan changes again when Osiris reveals she's serving Selmak, and when they decide not to poison all of the System Lords, Daniel's desire to save Sarah rears its ugly head again. 

He just needs something positive to come out of this mission. 

He can't think of the Revanna base under attack, or he's not going to be able to focus on surviving.

He can't think about Jack. 

_ Jack, I'm sorry. Jack, don't die and I'll let you say 'I told you so.' _

His plan doesn't work. He almost dies. He almost loses the poison. Jacob is completely fed up with him, and getting shorter and more irritated each time they speak. 

Daniel would welcome even one of Jacob's lectures, the ones filled with deep and almost parental disapproval, if he doesn't have to think about Jack and Sam and Teal'c being buried in collapsing Tok'ra tunnels on Revanna. 

It's a good thing that Jacob doesn't need his help to fly the Tel'tak because Daniel can't do much more than huddle uselessly in the chair Jacob isn't using, swinging wildly between clawing, spiky fear about the fate of his team and deep, overwhelming pain at the idea that Jack might be done with him. 

Was that really all it took to put the final nails in the coffin of their relationship? This argument? 

Does Jack really not trust him to do his job, even now? 

That's what hurts the most, he thinks. 

* * *

Crash-landing a Tel'tak does not make the list of Daniel's top 100 favorite activities. He drags himself off of the sparking control panel, and spotting Jacob bloodied on the ground, moves to him as fast as he still can. "Hey. You okay?"

Jacob's chest is moving underneath his hand, but it takes a minute before he groans, "Not really."

"Yeah, you'd think a race advanced enough to fly around in space ships would be smart enough to have seat belts, huh?" Daniel can't help the teasing; Jacob and Selmak scold them often enough about playing with the advanced technology they don't understand, but sometimes the simplest things seem to be missing from said technology. 

"We just prefer not to crash," Jacob gasps out in response, and Daniel grabs both of his arms to tow him into an upright position. He's not a fan of the way the ship is still sparking and smoking, and he wants them out of it ASAP.

"Come on, we'd better get out of here." He hitches Jacob's arm over his shoulder and starts walking. The clearing they've crashed in is too open, so Jacob directs him to head down the path into the forest. Thankfully, Selmak knows the location of the nearest emergency beacon, which would have had to have been reprogrammed to send an Earth-language SOS, so they head in that direction hoping to find survivors.

They haven't gone far when he looks up at a sound and Jack and Teal'c are jogging down the path towards them. 

"Are you injured?" Teal'c asks, looking up and down at the way Jacob is leaning heavily on Daniel's shoulder. 

"I'll live," Daniel hears Jacob respond, but it seems distant and unimportant. He only has eyes for Jack, who looks much better off than they are, though he's also dirty and sweaty and a little beat up.

Jack doesn't meet his eyes, addressing his first question to Jacob as well. "How's our ride?"

He tries not to read into anything that Jack doesn't ask if Daniel's okay. He can probably see that Daniel's fine - if he wasn't at least in as good shape as Jacob, he wouldn't be supporting the Tok'ra's weight, after all. They don't need to hash out their issues right this minute (but some small acknowledgment would be nice).

"It's not going anywhere fast," Jacob says dryly and Jack nods. 

His heart squeezes painfully when, despite Daniel desperately trying to catch his eye, Jack looks back the way they came. "Let's get out of here. This road is too open."

Teal'c frowns over at Jack and then steps towards Daniel and Jacob, stepping forward so he can lift Jacob's other arm over his shoulder and take the burden from Daniel. "We will move faster if you allow me to assist you, JacobCarter."

"Thank you, Teal'c." Jacob takes his arm off of Daniel's shoulder and transfers his weight to Teal'c. They immediately start down the path back into the cover of the woods. The combination of the lack of extra weight and sheer relief at being alive and with back the team makes Daniel light-headed and he sways for a moment and has to lean forward, planting his hands on his knees and trying valiantly not to vomit from the nausea that sweeps through him. 

A warm, familiar hand settles on the back of his neck, applying firm pressure in the perfect spots on either side that tend to relieve the stress pressure that builds up in Daniel's neck. It's all he can do not to sink to his knees in sheer, grateful relief. 

"Are you okay?" Jack's voice is rough but not mean, the slight way his hand is gently massaging Daniel's neck making a lie of how gruff his tone was. Relief breaks over Daniel like a summer rainstorm in the desert and he has to blink back hot tears of release even as he carefully nods his head and tries to form words. 

"I just needed a minute," he whispers, standing upright and turning to throw his arms around Jack's waist. "Sorry, Jack. Oh, God -" There's just a second when he reconsiders, uncertain of his reception, but Jack's arms come up around him and he melts bonelessly into the contact between them.

The hand on the back of his neck squeezes again, and Jack's free hand tangles momentarily in his hair. His touch is firm but mindful of all of Daniel's injuries. Jack gives him a minute and then gently sets him away, nodding down the path. "Let's get out of the open. We left Carter basically on her own."

Daniel nods, closing his eyes and taking another bracing breath before starting after Teal'c and Jacob. He doesn't let himself lean on Jack, not needing the assistance that Jacob needed and knowing Jack would rather have both hands free to handle his weapon. Jack sticks close right behind his shoulder though, close enough to grab him if he falters, and that's a bolster to his soul. They're not okay, not yet, but he doesn't feel that all hope is lost like he did when on the Goa'uld ship.

The hope is everything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S5E15 ("Summit") & S5E16 ("Last Stand")- The Tok'ra recruit Daniel for an undercover mission to try and infiltrate a Goa'uld summit and kill off all of the remaining big-time players, which they believe will destabilize the System Lords for good. Daniel is the only human they know who speaks fluent Goa'uld. While Jacob and Daniel go to the summit to do the plan, SG-1 and SG-17 come under attack in the Tok'ra base. Meanwhile, Osiris/Sarah shows up to the Goa'uld summit unexpectedly and Daniel goes off-script to try and save her, which results in them learning that she is serving another Goa'uld (Anubis) who is even worse, so Jacob & Daniel decide not to kill the System Lords to prevent Anubis from rising to power. Several times Daniel is almost killed, discovered, or captured before he escapes the summit and they go back to rescue Jack, Sam, and Teal'c from Anubis' attack on the Tok'ra base.


	20. Snippet: Fail Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which SG-1 saves the world (again), while tensions are high. Apologies are hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S5E17 (“Fail Safe”). Episode summary in the endnotes.
> 
> I'm really sorry for the wait here. I'm having trouble writing chapters 22 and 23, and it's been crazy busy life around here. Hope you guys are still with me. 
> 
> As usual, any dialogue you recognize from the show directly isn't mine, I'm just playing in the sandbox.

He’s been avoiding any opportunity to sit down and talk to Daniel about their fight with the skill of someone who is a master of avoidance of all types. He’s been married and divorced, after all, and while the death of his son had been tragic and something he would never fully recover from, he has gained enough distance from it to know that his refusal to communicate with Sara had played just as large a role in their divorce as Charlie’s death. 

Jack regrets telling Daniel he didn’t trust him. When his partner had found the nerve to confront Jack about the way he’d been treating him recently, Jack had promised himself that he’d stop acting that way. Fear of losing Daniel, of getting this close just to have it end, was no excuse for treating him like shit. But despite knowing that Danny was the only person who could ever hope to pull off the Tok’ra mission to the Goa’uld summit, he’d expressed his fears by lashing out at his lover using the very insecurity Daniel had confessed to him, and then acted like a complete asshole when Daniel (understandably) pushed back. 

_ “Can’t you trust me, Jack?” Daniel’s frustrated face is an open book; his eyes are narrowed behind his round glasses, and Jack can see the shadow of the night he’d told Jack how much it bothered him when he was, generally, a jerk at work. There are alarm bells going off in the back of his head, but Jack is remembering all of the times that Daniel put himself in harm’s way, accidentally or on purpose, and when he opens his mouth, he says: _

_ “No.”  _

_ Daniel visibly recoils, blue eyes suddenly impossibly wide, and Jack straightens up, stepping back with a shake of his head. Now why in the name of anything that was ever good did he say that? He can see the pain in his partner’s eyes and he wants to say that wasn’t what he meant, but the words don’t come. He  _ doesn’t  _ trust Daniel with his own safety. He wants to trust Jacob, but after some of the crap the Tok’ra have pulled.... _

_   
_ _   
_ _ Before he can decide what to say, how to apologize, Daniel has wrapped his arms around himself and he lowers his gaze as he stumbles over, “Maybe...maybe we shouldn’t be in a relationship then.” _

_   
_ _   
_ _ Despite being in the back hallways of a Tok’ra base where no one is likely to stumble upon them without plenty of warning, Jack is annoyed with Daniel for blurting that out so casually. And the words  _ themselves _...but the part of him that is a giant coward sees this as an opening. He could reconcile with his archaelogist right now, or push him away. Make it hurt less if he doesn’t come back from this mission. _

_ So he does. _

He’s an idiot. He knows he’s an idiot, but to his chagrin, time travel hasn’t been amongst the technologies they’ve brought back from all over the galaxy. There’s no way out of this except forward. 

He’d apologized. It was a shitty apology and had come with a promise to talk about it further, but he didn’t want to have that conversation until he’d sorted out his own crap. He’d jumped on more than a few missions SG-1 probably hadn’t been needed on to keep them busy, and as a consequence when they were on Earth they’d been too tired to worry about it, to his everlasting relief, right up until this asteroid had been discovered and sent them on a race to save Earth.

Again.

Despite the strain of every plan they have looking like a rather uninspiring long shot, or perhaps because that is when they function the best, he has been in sync with Daniel the whole time; exchanging looks and thoughts and humor as if they have not been growing a silent and deadly tension between them at home. They didn’t crash on the asteroid, despite all the odds, and the bomb is set to save the planet. But when he and Teal’c emerge from the cave after they pass through the asteroid belt and there is no response on the radio from the cargo ship, fear coils around his heart.

At that moment, he would do anything to find Daniel alive; to have the chance to actually apologize and do better. In a fog of dread, he moves woodenly with Teal’c into the ship where the readings show no atmosphere, briefly baffled to find it empty of his teammates...or their bodies. His skin feels clammy with fear underneath the spacesuit as he does a sweep of the cargo area while Teal’c brings up the ship’s schematics. His can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Vaguely, not really all there, he’s able to hold a conversation with T while he sweeps another look across the bridge.

  
  
Where are Sam and Daniel? He skips from the idea of abduction by friendlies to abduction by non-friendlies, though there’s no evidence of a struggle, and his eyes settle on the escape pods set into the wall. Daniel is intimately familiar with those escape pods, having used one to escape the Goa’uld summit; he’d had recurring nightmares that first week home that woke both him and Jack, some of which had included Jacob not realizing he needed picking up and dying in the escape pod. It would have taken a lot to get him back into one. Something life-threatening...like losing the atmosphere in the ship. 

He walks quickly over to the nearest pod and kicks it three times, holding his breath as he rests a hand on it; faintly, there is a responding three thumps from inside of the pod. Though he leans briefly forward to rest his forehead against the pod, Jack doesn’t feel like he can breathe again until they’ve repaired the ship, and he opens the pods and puts eyes on a shaken, but unharmed, Daniel. 

“Hey kids, how are you feeling?” He wants to grab Daniel up and hug him tightly, but he has to settle for a hand on the back of Daniel’s neck as they follow Sam back to the console. 

“Oh, not bad considering the circumstances,” Daniel responds wryly, stretching a bit, and Jack knows he’s just reveling in not being cramped into the escape pod anymore. It’s not the words he wants to say or the touch he wants to initiate, but Daniel understands; he gives Jack a little smile over his shoulder and runs his fingers discretely down Jack’s arm before they turn their minds to their newest issue.

Jack doesn’t blow up when they disable the bomb. Carter’s new plan works. Everything would be looking up, if they weren’t stranded in space, unable to communicate with Earth, running out of life support. Daniel is too far away, sitting up in a command chair; Jack wants to touch him. If they’re going to die, he doesn’t want to do it without having made up to Danny all the way. He’s considering how long he’s going to leave it before giving up all hope of being rescued and grabbing Daniel and dragging him back into the cargo hold, Carter and Teal’c’s presence be damned, when there’s a noise from the control panel. 

He sits up quickly, and so does Sam. There’s a ship. Maybe they won’t die today.

It’s the Tok’ra. When they’re safely beamed onto Jalen’s fully functioning ship, he momentarily considers actually forgiving them for some of the other shit they’ve pulled lately. Teal’c takes the copilot seat beside Jalen and Sam and Daniel wander back into the cargo area, while Jack uses the radio to report back to Earth. The General reports that their plan was successful, and Jack leaves him to coordinate the return of personnel from the alpha site and heads to the back of the cargo ship himself. The door closes behind him; the lights are dimmed. 

His eyes find Sam first, already sound asleep laying next to the door, head pillowed on her pack. Jack has to peer into the gloom to find Daniel on the other side of the room, leaning up against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest. Jack crosses over to him, and sits beside him with creaking joints and a groan.

“Hi,” Daniel says very softly, and Jack smiles a little. 

“Hey.” Sam doesn’t seem to stir at their words, her form still nearly motionless and turned away towards the wall, so Jack gives in to his deep desire to get closer to his partner, wrapping an arm around Daniel’s shoulder and tugging him close. Their teammates won’t say anything about this level of closeness, even if they are discovered, and he simply can’t keep his hands off of his lover any longer. 

Something inside of him unclenches when Daniel turns a little bit into his embrace, tucking his head down against Jack’s shoulder. “I’m glad you didn’t blow up,” he mutters sleepily. Jack huffs out a low laugh, lifting his hand to briefly run his fingers through the archaeologist's soft hair. 

“I’m glad you thought to hide in the escape pods,” he returns, and Daniel just gives a little ‘hmm’ of agreement. They’re both drained from the marathon mission, and he knows Danny won’t last long awake. Jack doesn’t either, but he falls asleep thinking pleasantly of all the ways he can show Daniel how glad he is they’re both alive, once they get back to Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S5E17 ("Fail Safe") - SG-1 has to figure out how to keep an asteroid from hitting earth and destroying the planet. They run into many issues including a miscalculated landing, a bomb that doesn't work, the fact that the asteroid is not natural but enhanced with naquadah as a weapon, the ship losing its atmosphere, asteroid storms, and the obvious strain between Jack and Daniel in the end of this season.


	21. Menace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which something breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S5E19 ("Menace"). It's not my best angst but I've been sitting on it for a month and I'm giving it up as the best it's going to be for now. We've got some more sad stuff to come, re: end of season 5, but my endgoal is happy, I promise. ;)

They’re fumbling along. 

Returning to Earth from Revanna, they’d talked about it. Or, rather, they’d each stumbled through heartfelt, if awkward, apologies. Concurred that they definitely had not intended to break up. They’d agreed to talk more about why they’d said what they said later, but life hadn’t exactly cooperated. 

There’d been a few minor but somehow urgent missions to assist other teams, and then the little matter of the asteroid that they had to destroy less than two weeks after discovering it, less it destroyed the Earth. Somehow, after coming so close to dying several times, they lost the urge to talk about it as much. It’s easier to come home and tumble into bed and reaffirm their vitality in a very physical way. Daniel wrote off the events of Revanna as the heat of the moment. 

They went to Cal Mah; to support Teal’c, mostly, though also to consider the alliance possibility with K’tano and his Jaffa army. While it hurt when it seemed as if they would lose Teal’c, Daniel stood behind Jack. They were a team within the team, and that has always felt right. 

Things seemed almost smooth, getting better every day, and he’d allowed himself to hope that the asteroid had been a wake-up call for his colonel.

Then they went to the planet where they found the android girl.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Reece is fascinating. Sam was fascinated by the technology behind her, but Daniel is completely enamored of  _ her _ , and what she might be able to tell them about the rise and fall of yet another civilization. One which, if she is any indication, was far more advanced than their own. 

His excitement is spoiled slightly by the way Jack is reacting - he is openly hostile to the idea of her even as an artificial intelligence, much less as a being who deserves their compassion and understanding. For someone who has been all over the galaxy and even come to accept Unas as people, Daniel can’t fathom why he is so against the idea of machines as people. After getting permission to wake her up, as they stood around in the lab and waited to see if charging the power cell had worked, Daniel had gotten the first indications that something was wrong.    
  
_ Sam is musing on why recharging the power cell hadn’t worked, and Daniel’s staring down at the robot, when Jack says, “Why don’t you kiss her?” _

_ Baffled, Daniel slowly raises his head to look at his partner, unsure of where that had come from or how to respond. He’s saved from having to actually respond when the girl on the table gasps, startling all of them. Sam grabs her wrist and exclaims, “It has a pulse!” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “It has a heartbeat?” Daniel asks her, fascinated. Just how humanlike was this technology created to be? If she has a heartbeat, could she lead to medical miracles for Earth as well as be a wellspring of archaeological information?  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Jack, of course, joins in with, “It has a heart?” The question isn’t that out of place with the rest of what’s been said, but the way Jack is staring at him when he darts a look is uncomfortable, and Daniel frowns at him. He doesn’t have time to get to the bottom of what’s bothering Jack right now, because the robot wakes up, sits up, and it’s time for him to do his job. _

Still, despite his lack of enthusiasm and his snarky rejoinders than remind Daniel all too well of some of their recent discord, Jack doesn’t really object to Daniel’s running point on communicating with her. And at least Sam had backed him up when he protested Jack’s suggestion to just ‘treat her like a machine’, insofar as choosing to break the news to her gently. Sam had sent Jack back to the planet to investigate why Reece was the only thing they’d found, leaving Daniel to communicate with the child-robot in peace.

Not that that’s going particularly well. Reece is an interesting combination of childlike and mysterious - or hiding something. She doesn’t want to talk about what happened to her planet, but the choice to take it slow with her or not force her to think about it until she is ready is taken from Daniel the minute they find replicator blocks on her planet. If she can fight replicators, they need to know how. 

He tries to break the news gently, but Reece freaks out anyway, throwing him across the room into a bookcase. The SFs flood the room immediately, one of them grabbing Daniel and lifting him bodily from the heap of books. He’s a little dizzy, and everyone is already rushing around securing Reece, so the soldier who dragged him out stays with him, until Janet shows up. He’s planted on a stool right there in the hallway, where she starts to address the cut on his head. 

“I don’t think this is going to need stitches,” Janet says, to his eternal relief, just as Sam joins them from one direction and Jack comes around the corner from the other.    
  
“Hey. That went well,” Jack says sarcastically, and Daniel doesn’t look up, aware of Janet messing around in his hair, just sighs internally. 

“Maybe she has some sort of programming that prevents her from acknowledging she’s anything but human,” Sam suggests.

“Robot denial?” Jack asks.

Sam shrugs, and Daniel murmurs, “Looks that way.”   
  
“Has it occurred to anyone,” Jack says, and he’s raised his voice a little - it doesn’t help the new pounding in Daniel’s head, “That this thing may have been lying around that planet for, oh, quite some time and that maybe it's broken? Or perhaps it never worked right in the first place?”

“So you think we should just shut her down?” The very idea sounds like it pains Sam; she would hate to lose the opportunity to keep studying this marvelous thing that can maybe fight replicators.

“Oh, I don't know, let's ask the man who just had his head cracked open.” Ah. That’s what’s got Jack riled up. Daniel should have known. He’s always had an irrational response to his team getting hurt, even before he and Daniel became more than just teammates.

Still, as far as their injuries go, this one is fairly mild, and he rises to Reece’s defense with, “I don't think she meant to hurt me. I just don't think she liked what I was saying.” He keeps his voice quiet and looks up as far as he can at Jack without moving his head. He can feel the tiny conciliatory smile forming at the edge of his lips, coaxing his lover to try and relax.

“I don't like  _ most _ of what you say,” comes the growled retort from the colonel. “I try to resist the urge to shove you through a wall.” 

His breath catches; for a moment it actually feels like his next breath might not come, and the half-formed smile dies on his face. Daniel reminds himself that Jack is always weird when he gets hurt, and that he doesn’t mean it, but it’s already sliced into him. He looks away and says nothing in his own defense, because his throat is too tight again.

“Somehow, Reece managed to survive a massive attack from replicators.” Sam isn’t willing to give up the science. “There has to be more that we can learn from her, Sir.”

Jack throws up his hands. “Fine! Fine. You guys can try again.” He turns around and stalks away, muttering something that was probably uncomplimentary. Sam sighs, and Janet finally steps away from Daniel. 

“How’s the headache?” She asks as she pulls off her gloves, taking a penlight and shining it into his eyes instead. “The vision?”   
  
“Vision’s fine,” he says softly, “but my head has felt better. But some of that was probably Jack.”   
  
She gives him a sympathetic smile and pats his shoulder. Janet is used to Jack’s growling and posturing too, and she doesn’t seem to have noticed this time being any different. “Don’t wash your hair tonight. I’ll check out that gash in the morning and we’ll go from there.”

* * *

He was feeling pretty okay about going back into the room with Reece (she was just a kid who didn’t know her own strength, he thought) but even he has to admit to a frisson of fear when she presents him with a full working replicator. His skin is crawling as he accepts it from her and makes an excuse to leave, forcing himself to stay calm as he carries it out of the room. Reece seems put out that he hadn’t been very excited, but at least this time there is no temper tantrum. He pretty much holds his breath until he can drop it into the containment case in the lab and step away, compulsively rubbing his hands on his shirt.

Even still smarting over his earlier callousness, Daniel is glad of Jack at his side and the SF’s behind them when they go back in to talk to Reece. He still thinks she’s a confused little girl, but she’s a confused little girl much stronger than he is and able to create one of the worst dangers they’ve ever faced. 

Her story is heartbreaking. Usually, Jack would be the first to side with a kid with that sort of tragedy, but Daniel guesses he just can’t get past the robot part. Still, for all his reservations about her, Jack handles staying calm in the room really well. Unfortunately, Reece doesn’t see their side of it. It’s not her fault, but she  _ is _ dangerous. Daniel advocates for her, but he can’t blame Hammond for wanting her shut down, especially when they realize she’s been creating replicators on base.

Against all the odds, he still thinks he can talk her into shutting them down. She trusted him once, she can trust him again. It’s not aggression driving her, but fear. Daniel understands her fear, and he thinks he understands Reece. He doesn’t convince Jack, but he convinces the General; he overrides Jack and agrees to let Daniel go in and talk to her. 

The floor is covered in replicators, but they move as he approaches her, gently trying to talk her down. It takes a lot of work to overcome his own fear of the machines surrounding them, but she is just a child. For god’s sake, she says she’s never had a  _ friend _ . This is not an enemy that needs to be shot down, it’s an alien lifeform that needs their help.   
  
That bolsters his resolve, and he continues to approach her slowly, and she starts to look open and hopeful and innocent again. “They protect me,” Reece says.    
  
“I’ll protect you,” Daniel says, and he means it. 

“Do you promise?”

“I promise,” he agrees, his heart going out to her standing there looking lost on the ramp. “No one will hurt you. Come on,” he holds out a hand for her to take, smiling in return at her tiny, hopeful smile. “Show you my world?”

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” And in that moment, he’s not lying. He does want to show him their world - but not without failsafes. She had been powered down for maybe hundred or thousands of years - a few weeks, while they wait for the Asgard to get into contact and help make sure everyone stays safe, won’t hurt her. Then, after everyone is assured of her harmlessness, he can show her Earth and help her settle in. 

She takes his hand and starts to walk by, and he puts a hand on the back of her neck, the guise of offering comfort, searching for the power key Sam had told him about. Before he can find it, she grabs his wrist and throws him to the ground; there’s a snapping inside of his wrist and all he can do is collapse in pain, the click of replicators echoing threateningly all around him. 

When he gets up on his knees, holding his wrist which is shooting pain up his arm, there are no replicators. Just Reece, screaming and holding her head in response to gunfire outside the door. Apparently she can feel the replicators being destroyed. Behind him, someone is trying to get access to the gate room with a torch, and he tries desperately to argue with her. If she won’t control the replicators, someone is going to end her, trying to end them. Her only hope is if he can convince her to shut down.   
  
“I will wake you up myself. I  _ promise _ . I’m your friend. I don’t want you to die.”   
  
She comes right up to him, super slowly. “I don’t want you to die either,” she says, and she’s crying. But he can see her considering it, and he sees her make the decision to trust him. He’s going to be able to save her. He’s going to be able to save at least one person. She opens her mouth, his heart leaping in his chest, but then she looks up at a loud clatter behind them. Daniel spins around, and it’s Jack climbing through the opening the torch has cut in the door - Jack lifting his weapon - he doesn’t have time to move or say anything.

  
Jack shoots her. Daniel can nearly feel the bullet pass by him. Rushing over to where she’s been thrown backward, he falls to her side just as she looks up at him, betrayal in her face, but also acceptance; and then her eyes close. There’s a clatter like hail outside, and all shooting stops. 

Leaning over Daniel, Jack reaches down in one motion and opens the port on the side of her neck, removing the power disk. Stepping away, he speaks into his radio, “Robot has been neutralized.”

Daniel can feel the tears welling up in his eyes, the memory of her betrayed look right there behind closed eyelids. Sorrow mixes with the pain and the fear of the last few minutes, and he drops his head to hide his face from anyone else who follows Jack into the Gateroom. He pulls off his glasses and surreptitiously tries to wipe the tears away, but more follow hot behind the ones he is rid of. Lifting his head, all he can see is Jack. Hurt and adrenaline are crashing hard, combined with pain, and the finality of her death. Nothing makes sense. Daniel can’t help it - he says the first thing that comes to mind, his voice shaking. “You stupid son of a bitch.” 

_ I could have saved her _ , he thinks.  _ She was turning them off. She didn’t need to die.  _

“Hey!” Jack snaps. “You’re welcome.”

“You didn't have to shoot her,” Daniel whispers, feeling the first of the hot tears glide down his cheek. 

Slowly, firmly, as if trying to convince both of them, Jack says, “Yes, I did.” 

“She was shutting them down.” Daniel can’t look up at him again. He looks everywhere but into Jack’s face, voice breaking halfway through the sentence. 

“I had no way of knowing that and neither did you,” Jack bites the words out.

“They didn't stop because you shot her,” Daniel argues, finally meeting his partner’s eyes, and realizing that it all boils down to this...over and over and over. Jack doesn’t trust him. This time, it directly cost someone their life. The pain of that slices through his heart, leaving him cold. “They stopped because she told them to.”

“Carter said she was losing control,” Jack is raising his voice again, taking shelter from the uncertainty behind a wall of I’m-always-right. ‘ _ Carter said _ ’. Because when Sam tells him something, he usually acts on her advice unquestioningly. But when Daniel tells him things he has to argue, to defend his point to the death, and half the time Jack goes looking for a second opinion anyway. And if there is no trust between them as coworkers, where does that leave their personal life? Daniel can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect him professionally. Until now, he’d always thought Jack was just overprotective and cynical. He was an idiot to ignore all of the warning signs. “Now if just one of those damn things got out of this base, developed its own personality, we would be royally screwed.”

“You just killed the only chance we'll ever have of stopping them,” Daniel says quietly, emotionlessly. 

“Look, I'm sorry.” Jack sounds like he means it, but he’s apologized too many times. Daniel hardens his heart not to fall for it anymore. “But this is the way it had to go down and you know it.” Daniel nods, but he’s not agreeing with what Jack’s saying. He’s agreeing with his own realization that it’s over. He’ll never love anyone else like he loves Jack O’Neill, but he can’t be with him when he knows what Jack really thinks of him. He won’t be able to stay on SG-1, either, though he’ll have to wait until this blows over a bit before trying to talk the General into moving him. Jack is staring at him like he wants to say something else, but Daniel looks away, reaching down to gently touch Reece’s face, and Jack walks away to start getting the mess cleaned up.

Just like that, Jack walks away. 


	22. Meridian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we hit a (canonical) all-time low.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter tags to S5E21 ("Meridian"). Canonical character death, lots of angst, but hey, it can only go up from here, right? I promise we'll get back to fluff and shenanigans (and spankings) after we, you know, skip most of season 6.

They’re not speaking. 

Jack had ignored it for about a week, still feeling stubbornly confident that he had been right to shoot the replicator girl, and assuming that once they gained a little distance from the incident, Daniel would get over it also and admit that Jack had just been doing what had to be done. 

But he’s started to understand that something is different this time. As he thawed, his own frustration with Daniel fading, Jack had slowly realized that Daniel was just drawing further and further away. 

Their team hasn’t seemed to notice that anything is wrong - Daniel is playing the part of his normal self under the Mountain and out in the Field admirably, with skills Jack never imagined he had. The archaeologist says the right thing, makes the right jokes, smiles and laughs at the right times, he’s even shared a tent with Jack like they always have, without once causing Sam or Teal’c to even bat an eyelash. 

Nobody else has noticed the difference, but it’s all Jack can think about. His partner doesn’t look at him. He doesn’t argue passionately or fight for what he believes is right. He doesn’t ask for extra time to look at interesting things or share secret looks with Jack with laughter brimming just under the surface. He’s unfailingly pleasant to Jack but never looks him in the eye. He stays just out of reach of the casual touches that have become so commonplace between them. 

He hasn’t returned to Jack’s house while Jack was home, but he must have slipped in and out one day when Jack wasn’t home, because this week the colonel noticed a few key sentimental things that had migrated to his place are missing; somehow, the fact that he just left behind everything else he’d accumulated at Jack’s place over the years just highlights the missing items more poignantly. 

The one time Jack brings himself to go to Daniel’s apartment, mostly ready to try and fix, the door’s locked and Daniel doesn’t answer. Jack bangs on the door the third time and adds a growling demand, but when one of Daniel’s neighbors opens their door and leans out, glaring suspiciously, he leaves. On the way out he checks - Daniel’s car is still in its spot and the lights are on; Daniel had been choosing not to let him in. 

When he sat down and had a long think about it, a sober and uncomfortable one, he knows that he has no one to blame but himself. Daniel had warned him several times that he wasn’t happy with how Jack was treating him; he’d gone well out of his comfort zone to stand up for himself (instead of just everyone around him) and Jack had listened, claimed to understand, made empty promises, and then just gone on doing and saying the same things. He doesn’t need Daniel to say any of it again - he can replay their conversations and interactions in his head again and again, and he knows exactly where things had gone wrong. 

Jack just doesn’t know how to undo anything he’s done. If he were Daniel, he wouldn’t give him another chance either. Jack is shocked, actually, that Daniel hasn’t tried to transfer off of Jack’s team entirely. Of course, he can’t exactly tell the General  _ why _ he wants a change - the first and only time the ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ policy has benefited Jack - Daniel is stuck with him as long as it takes for Jack to figure out how to make things right. 

Jack misses him more than he thought possible. He’s grown used to having Daniel comfortably ensconced at his house, and the empty rooms echo at him. He has to stop keeping alcohol in the house because the urge to get drunk each lonely night so he doesn’t have to think and feel is familiar. Danny had pulled him out of this state the first time, and he pulls himself out inch by inch this time because his Daniel deserves better from him. 

After many nights of wishing he had the beer to help him along to blissful sleep, Jack decides that if Daniel won’t talk to him and take his apology, perhaps he can prove that he’s seen the error of his ways through his actions. He resolves not just to listen to Daniel in the field but to actively seek his opinions and act on his advice. 

Though he knows the thought is somewhat unfair, right now, he’s thinking that if he hadn’t been trying so hard to make Daniel happy, they wouldn’t be in this situation. He would never have left Daniel alone in any other circumstances, but their archaeologist had claimed he had nothing to offer on a tour of a city of this level of technological advancement, and he had begged to be left behind to try and talk to the scientists about the bomb they were building. Jack had known that that was code for “tell them about our history and the theory of the cold war and why this is a terrible idea”, but he’d given in anyway. 

_ “It’s a lethal dose, sir.” _ Sam’s words are echoing in his head. Staring down at the blank piece of paper in front of him, his gut clenches again; radiation is nothing to mess around with, and Sam wouldn’t have said that if she wasn’t sure, but he just can’t allow himself to believe it. Daniel has pulled through so-called fatal injuries before. 

They won’t allow this time to be any different. 

The General comes through into the conference room and they all start to stand, but he dismisses them to sit immediately. “As you were.” Jack sinks back into his seat, and his teammates follow suit silently around him. “Dr. Fraiser tells me there's nothing more we can do for Dr. Jackson at the moment. In the meantime, tell me what happened.”

Janet had kicked them out of the infirmary. Really, she’d threatened to have Jack physically removed if he didn’t leave and let them get Daniel decontaminated and started on whatever treatment they had available to them. Jack hasn’t spoken since he stalked out, and neither Teal’c nor Sam has bothered to offer any platitudes. He can’t bring himself to speak now, either, and so he gives Carter a little go-ahead gesture. 

They lay out the situation as matter-of-factly as possible, from their arrival on Kelowna to the discovery that the Kelownans were building a bomb. He tries not to sound unhappy about how well Jonas and Daniel had gotten along, but he’s a little bitter about it because Daniel’s enjoyment of the other geek’s company had been a huge contributing factor to why Jack agreed to leave him at the research facility with Jonas Quinn. If he had listened to his head instead of his feelings, Daniel would have been with them in the city when the experiment went bad.

(Intrusive, insistent logic reminds him that in that case, they might  _ all _ have blown up, but guilt overwhelms that logic.)

That guilt crests again, overwhelmingly, as Sam explains that they weren’t there when the incident happened. The anger is hot on guilt’s heels, as Jack remembers shouting down the Kelownan officials who were trying to take Daniel into custody as SG-1 rushed him towards the Gate, insisting that Daniel - their Daniel! - had been sabotaging the research project. He jumps into Daniel’s defense here reflexively, before Sam can explain what the Kelownans accused, even though the General is the last person he needs to defend Danny too. If anything, George Hammond has more respect for Daniel as a person than any of them. “Still, we don’t know.”

“Colonel,” the General says, impatiently, “what  _ do _ you know?”

Jack looks a little helplessly back at Sam. “Sir, they're claiming Daniel tried to sabotage their research.” Her tone makes it clear that she thinks it’s a load of crap, but even hearing it out loud puts Jack’s hackles back up. 

“They're lying, General.”

The General is silent, looking around the table at each of them. Teal’c chimes in with, “I also do not believe this to be true.”

“They let us bring him back home on compassionate grounds,” Sam says quietly, though this is a vast understatement of the shouting and threatening Jack had done when they tried to hold Daniel under arrest, and the belligerent way that the Kelownans had let them go only under duress. He appreciates her subtlety. 

“The fact is,” he snarks, “they just didn't want us around there anymore.”

Carter, ever the good soldier, adds, “But they are demanding that he be returned to face the charges... if he survives.”

Which isn’t happening. Over Jack’s rotting corpse. Daniel  _ is _ going to survive, and he’s never stepping foot on that godforsaken planet again. If the Kelownans want him, they’ll have to come to get him from behind the weight of the United States Airforce.

“What is Dr. Jackson saying happened?” The General interrupts Jack’s dark musings, and he and Sam look at each other, silent for a long moment, because this is the sticky part. None of them were there, and Daniel hasn’t exactly said anything in his own defense. They know the Kelownan story is a complete and utter lie, but they have no idea what happened and for whatever reason, so far Daniel hasn’t been very forthcoming. 

“Colonel?” the General snaps, impatiently, and Jack taps his pen on the paper in front of him a few times before looking up. 

“He hasn’t really said, sir. He’s already collapsed once from the radiation and it was very chaotic. We thought it would be best to get him into Doctor Fraiser’s hands as soon as possible.”

He holds George’s soul-piercing, I’m-not-buying-it gaze for a long minute, and finally, the General gives a single nod. “Well as soon as the Doctor will let you see him, you better get his side of the story. Dismissed.”

\------------------------------------------------------

Janet takes one look at his solemn expression and wordlessly gestures him back to the last infirmary bed; Daniel’s usual spot when he spends time here. Feeling a little like he’s walking to someone’s execution, Jack meanders back to where Daniel is sitting up on the bed, staring down at his bandaged hands, and stops at the foot of the bed, clearing his throat.    
  
“Hey,”

“Hey.” Daniel looks up, and there’s a distant expression in his eyes that makes the bile rise in the back of Jack’s throat. He always looks extra young in the stark white scrubs Janet keeps for infirmary patients. Feeling restless, Jack shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“So. They got you all deactivated.”

“Uh, yeah,” Daniel’s brows knit together and he frowns and then reaches up to touch his temples like he sometimes does when he’s got a migraine starting. “I’m not a threat to anyone else now.” To prevent himself from turning and walking out, to go drown his panic in whatever bottle he can find, Jack drags a chair to the side of the bed and sits down. Daniel swings his legs over the side of the bed and turns to face him, still looking far away and a little strung out. “Of course none of that matters, when it comes to radiation. I’ve already got a headache, and Janet says the nausea will start with a few minutes. She’s already got me on an IV.”   
  
Jack’s eyes find the mass of tubes and wires he’s attached to and he thinks in denial, but you look fine. It must show in his face, because Daniel keeps talking, rattling off the symptoms of radiation poisoning as if he’s memorized it from the textbook. He probably has. “The nausea will be followed by tremors, convulsions, and something called ataxia. Surface tissue, brain tissue, and internal organs will inflame and degrade, I believe that's called necrosis.” Daniel’s refusing to look directly at him, eyes sliding away almost as soon as they lift each time in a classic sign of Daniel not saying what he’s truly feeling. He’s laying out the sequence of his own death in a matter-of-fact, emotionless tone that makes Jack want to punch something. “Now based on the dose of radiation I got, all that will happen in the next ten to fifteen hours, and if I don't drown in my own fluids first, I will bleed to death, and there is no medical treatment to prevent that.”

He looks up ever so briefly right at the end, but he doesn’t hold Jack’s gaze. The colonel has to swallow hard. “Maybe not that  _ we _ know of.” They have allies. Powerful, advanced races who all genuinely like Doctor Daniel Jackson. Someone will know how to fix this. 

“Jack, we don't go running to our off-world allies every time an individual's life is at stake.” They do when it’s Daniel. Jack lifts a finger, intended to say so, but Daniel pins him with a solid look for the first time and plows over his half-formed objection, “And  _ don't _ go telling me that this is any different, because my life is no more valuable than anybody else's.”

Daniel looks away first when Jack doesn’t respond. Jack knows Danny won’t accept the idea that his life is, indeed, more important than most everyone else’s around here. Daniel knows that Jack will ultimately do whatever he thinks is necessary, and that won’t include not asking everyone possible for help. They argue silently about it, and Jack figures he wins when Daniel looks away first.

Changing the subject, he asks, “What happened?”

“It doesn't matter,” Daniel scoffs.

“Yes, it does.” He keeps his tone low but very firm, and it draws Daniel’s startled eyes back up. “You didn't try to sabotage anything.” Daniel would have argued to his very last breath, until Jack physically dragged him back to the gate, to try and convince them that the bomb was a bad idea. But he doesn’t have a sneaky bone in his body, and he wouldn’t have solved the problem by sabotaging their project.   
  
Jack might have, but that’s a different story altogether. Everyone already knows that Daniel’s a better man than Jack O’Neill.

“There was an accident.” Daniel looks up at him from beneath his lashes, clearly already knowing that Jack’s going to be less than impressed with his vague response. But he looks and sounds so...discouraged...that Jack can’t find it in himself to press the issue. Daniel never did deal well when other people failed to live up to his high expectations for them. Jack certainly has failed him plenty of times in the past, and he knows that quiet, self-sabotaging, don’t-make-a-fuss-of-your-hurt tone. The General can come to try to resist Daniel’s puppy-dog eyes himself. “I guess the scientists figured the government would hold them responsible. I guess they figured it was easier to blame me.”

“And you're okay with this?” Just because he knows what’s going through Daniel’s head doesn’t mean he hates it any less. 

“No!” A quick glance up from those bright blue eyes, a flash of indignation that warms Jack’s heart, but then Daniel’s staring down at his lap again. “But there's not much I can do about that.”

“Yes,” he tries to keep the growl out of his voice, he does, but the tone of giving up that Daniel’s already adopted is making him mad. “There is!”

“If they really want to blame me, denying it isn't going to change anything.” There’s a certain amount of truth to that, but it just grinds Jack’s gears for them to blame Daniel for their own scientist’s overconfidence and mistakes. But Daniel’s not done, and Jack gets a little bit more insight into what happened while they toured the city. Daniel must have made some progress on the translations before everything went to hell. “Ten thousand years ago, a Goa'uld tried the same experiments that they're trying and he nearly blew the entire planet to bits. I tried telling them that, they wouldn't listen. They're gonna build that bomb and nothing we say is gonna stop them.”

This is why Daniel isn’t fighting harder. Jack can see it - the guilt of not being able to convince them to stop, of not being able to save all of those people, is like an iron cage around Daniel’s heart. He can’t bring himself to fight the blame of the Kelownans, because he feels like he deserves their disgust for failing to protect them from themselves.

“You told them. That’s all you can do,” he says sternly; quietly. Daniel doesn’t respond or even look at him. There’s nothing Jack can do to lift that guilt. When they were together, before he shredded what was left of their relationship, he could have chased away Daniel’s guilt. But even if his archaeologist was physically well enough for such activities, which he clearly isn’t, (Jack’s been watching him get paler and shorter of breath even as they’re sitting there), he doesn’t have the right to do anything like that anymore. Once, Daniel had trusted him with his heart, and his soul, and his guilt, but Jack had burned it all down. 

Standing, he takes a chance and reaches out to rest his hand on top of Daniel’s head, burying his fingers in the familiar soft brown hair. “Whatever happens to Kelowna is  _ not your fault _ , Daniel.” There’s a quiet noise from the man in front of him that isn’t quite disagreement but certainly isn't a resounding agreement. Jack gives the hair beneath his hand just the slightest affectionate ruffle and then has to clear his throat to say gruffly, “Get some rest. You need your strength. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

When Daniel doesn’t protest that Jack doesn’t need to come back, he realizes that Daniel honestly believes he’s going to die.

\---------------------------------------------------

Jack’s world feels like it’s about to implode at any minute, he’s walking around only half-aware of what is going on around him, but everyone else is moving forward. He drags himself away from the infirmary only when he’s summoned by the General. Daniel is asleep, but his periods of being awake and lucid are growing shorter and less frequent, and it takes the order from the General to remove him from their boy’s bedside. 

Carter is presenting her findings about the immense value of the new element, but he can’t get excited about her science-speak when he knows its discovery might have come at the cost of Daniel’s life. They haven’t been able to reach the Asgard, Jacob and the other Tok’ra are incommunicado, and the General refuses to try and retrieve the one sarcophagus they have a location for. Daniel had defended that decision, passionate about not wanting anyone to die to try and save him, even though he could barely keep his eyes open to make the argument. 

He’s drawn out of his dark thoughts when the General says, “by now their government believes Dr. Jackson was trying to sabotage their research.”

“It's a lie,” he protests, “they're using Daniel as a scapegoat.”

Hammond is calm even in the face of his anger. In almost any other circumstance, Jack would be admiring his restraint. Now, it just makes him madder. “Still, you said he was vocal in his disapproval of their project before the accident. None of this bodes well for diplomatic relations.”

“Why are you talking about diplomatic relations?” he can hear his voice rising. “This is  _ Daniel's  _ life.”

Sir, I know how you feel because I feel the same way,” Sam tries to talk him down, and he can’t help but wish she knew how wrong she was. Sam is a good friend of Daniel’s, but she doesn’t feel a fraction for him what Jack does. Still, like Daniel, Sam is a better person than Jack. She can see past the value of one life to what the new element might be able to do for all of Earth. “But I cannot stress enough how valuable this element could be.”

“I will draft a letter to the Kelownan leaders,” the General begins.

“General,” he’s interrupting, something he gets away with only because George has a soft spot for all of SG-1 that becomes a black hole of leeway for Daniel, “you cannot capitulate to these people! They are lying bastards!”

“Their government doesn't know the truth.”

“So, we tell them!” Jack casts for any other option, even knowing already that even if the General agreed, Daniel would never agree to go back and throw the Kelownan scientists under the bus just to clear his name. He has a healthy-sized skepticism of the trustworthiness of government entities, and he’s already made it clear to Jack that he doesn’t trust this one to do right by its citizens. If clearing his name means putting others in danger, he just flat out will never agree to do it.

“They will have little reason to believe us over their own people, especially when what we're forcing them to admit would be a major embarrassment.” George is being incredibly patient, with a calm response to Jack’s anger. In the very back of his mind, Jack makes a mental note to bump up the quality of booze he gifts the man at Christmas. He really could not ask for a better commanding officer. “It will put them at too great a disadvantage in further negotiations.”

“Sir! You cannot admit Daniel is guilty.” Jack could never live with that.

The look Hammond gives him makes Jack feel about 13 years old again. “Give me some credit, Jack. I will tell them that we did not order any such action and do not condone its obvious intentions, both of which are true. Hopefully, we can lay the groundwork for further diplomatic negotiations which will eventually result in an amicable trade for the naquadria. I'm ordering you to deliver the letter.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He goes to the planet, and he technically carries out his orders. He delivers Hammond’s letter. And then he goes to see Jonas Quinn, because Daniel had seen something in his Kelownan counterpart. Jack just sees another government lackey, but he takes a leap of faith and chooses to trust Daniel’s judgment. 

There’s no way Daniel spent several days with this man and didn’t make an impression. If he’s got anything like their linguist’s moral fortitude, Daniel taking the blame for any of this won’t sit right. Jack just needs to plant the seed of doubt and finish what his best friend started. Lay out the plain truth in a frank way that Daniel would never have been able to do before Jonas had seen firsthand what the radiation did.   
  
He tells Jonas that the bomb won’t work unless they use it. He can see the horror in the boy’s eyes, having just watched two of the scientists die so painfully, as he imagines the people who would die that way if his government uses the bomb. Task completed, he heads home. Back to Daniel.

When he finally makes it back to the infirmary, Daniel is completely covered in bandages. Even his face is wrapped up like a mummy; only his mouth, eyes, and fingertips peek out of the bandages. Every breath is labored and loud, and the many monitors show readings that aren’t nearly as high or as steady as he knows they should be. 

Jack doesn’t want to see Daniel like this. He almost walks out, despite his promise to come back when he got home. But Daniel’s quiet voice rises from the sea of white bandages.

“Hey, Jack.” It’s soft and full of understanding. Right then, he knows that Daniel would forgive him if he walked away right now. He wouldn’t hold it against him if he couldn’t stand it. Ironically, that’s what gives him the strength to stay.

If he was dying and afraid, Daniel Jackson would never walk away from him, even though Jack has given him every reason to hate him.

“Hey,” he returns, and then very slowly lowers himself into the chair someone has left next to the bed. “I uh, I just wanted to…” He has to look away, blink back tears he refuses to shed. He has no right to make this any harder on Daniel than it already is. He doesn’t even have any claim on him anymore other than friendship, and even that is tenuous. “I'm really bad at this.”

“Yes, you are.” Daniel agrees with him, but Jack can hear the smile in his voice. He’s teasing Jack. He’s trying to lighten the mood. Daniel Jackson is dying, painfully and fully aware, and he’s trying to make Jack O’Neill feel better. “I hear that Sam thinks the naquadria might be an important discovery.”

“Yeah, apparently. If we can get some.” Daniel nods, eyes closing. He can’t quite seem to keep them open. Janet had already warned Jack that he probably was only going to get a couple of minutes at a time of awareness - the number of drugs she has him on just to keep him in a modicum of an illusion of comfort would probably put down an elephant. “For what it's worth, I tried to get your point across to Jonas.”

“He's in a tough position,” Daniel rasps out. He’ll have forgiven Jonas Quinn for not standing up for him, just like he’s forgiven Jack every stupid, bone-headed, bastard thing he’d ever done, right up until the end of their relationship.

Jack leans forward. “You're not gonna take the fall for this. I don't care what's at stake.”

“Why do you care?”

It sounds defeated. Resigned. Jack would trade places with him in a heartbeat, and he’d agree to suffer this pain that Daniel is suffering for the rest of eternity if he could take back everything he’s ever done that contributed to this moment, where Daniel Jackson does not believe that he would do anything for him.

That he loves him.

That he, Daniel Jackson, is  _ worthy _ of that kind of unconditional love. 

Jack thinks of every time when he could have supported Daniel and lifted him up, and instead, he let his demons drag them down. Even time when he questioned him, second-guessed him, humiliated him, and Daniel forgave him. When he pushed so hard that even Daniel had had enough, and Daniel left him, and in turn was left with nothing.

Jack would change all of it, in a heartbeat, but he cannot. But even more so, he cannot bear that Daniel might die here tonight without understanding that as stupid and flawed as Jack is, he loves him with every fiber of his black soul. 

The words choke him because he can’t say them. He can’t take Daniel into his arms because his skin is blistering and falling off under the bandages, but under the cameras of the base, he can’t declare his love. He flounders, mouth open, trying to find the words.

He can’t give him the personal declaration of love that he deserves, and that will be a regret he already knows will haunt him until the end of his own miserable life. But what he can do is offer him the professional respect and admiration he has always stubbornly, stupidly kept in the silence of his own brain. He told Daniel he didn’t trust him, and that was the end of their relationship. It was also the biggest lie he ever told.

“Because, despite the fact that you've been a terrific pain in the ass for the last five years, I may have, might have, uh, grown to admire you a little, I think.” 

He stammers through the admission, hating himself for how poor it is, but his efforts do not go unrewarded. Daniel manages to open his eyes, looking right at Jack, fighting through the pain...and he smiles. The first time he’s really smiled since they came back through the Gate, and it’s warm and true. The way he used to smile at Jack all the time, before. 

“Now that's touching.” Still teasing, holding Jack’s eyes; his gaze says all the things he doesn’t have the strength to say.  _ I forgive you. I love you. I don’t want you to worry about me. _

“This will not be your last act on the official record.” Jack bites out, but he knows that Daniel can see the things he doesn’t say, too. The promise that he  _ did  _ respect him, that he  _ did _ love him, and that with those feelings comes a refusal to let anyone sully his name, even to save the world. Daniel wouldn’t approve, but he doesn’t have the strength to argue, because his eyes are slipping shut again, the sedatives dragging him back off to dreamland.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

He stays at Daniel’s side after that. Though the younger man only wakes for a few moments every couple of hours and becomes increasingly less coherent, Jack’s presence when he does awaken has an obvious calming effect on him. Each time he lapses back into unconsciousness, it takes Jack longer to fight back the helpless tears of anguish and anger. 

The Daniel Jackson effect is still going strong outside of that sterile room, though, and Jack isn’t really surprised when Jonas shows up, bearing what he could steal of the naquadria. Now, finally, they get the truth of why Daniel is dying. What he would never have told them himself - that when everyone else was fleeing to safety, worried only about their own survival, including the leader of the Kelownan experiment, Danny had run straight towards danger. Someone had acknowledged the bomb might explode, probably wiping out most of the country if not the planet. Daniel could have fled with the leader, radioed the team immediately, and they most likely would have made it through the Stargate to safety. 

Instead, he had jumped through a glass window into a room filled with radiation that had already appeared to have killed four scientists, to try and save a country full of people he didn’t know from Adam. 

Even after that, he wouldn’t even admit that’s what he had done. He would have died letting them believe it was just some wrong place, wrong time sort of accident. 

Jack has to walk away, and when he leaves his office again, it’s going to take days to repair the things he has destroyed and try to sort through all the papers he tore up and left strewn across the floor. None of their allies have come to save Daniel, and they don’t have anything to fix this.

\------------------------------------------------------

Jacob Carter arrives in the eleventh hour. He doesn’t bring a lot of optimism, no easy cure that Earth simply doesn’t have, but he does bring some hope because he brings Selmak, and the ability to use the healing device with much greater skill than Sam. Jack and the General brief him as best they can on the way to Daniel’s side, and then Jack settles at the back of the room and watches.

Selmak says they won’t be able to bring him back entirely, but Jack is with Sam. Even Daniel in some physically diminished capacity is better than no Daniel at all. They need him. He is the soul of the SGC, and without him, they risk being much less than they could be. The Asgard have said they have potential as a race, but everything they’ve ever given Jack credit for has been because Daniel made him better.

In one long blink of his eyes, he finds himself in the Gate room, with Daniel standing unbandaged and whole before him. “Daniel?” he queries in faint surprise; everything is glowing slightly and there’s a strange woman in a pale suit standing on the ramp.

“Yeah.”

Jack looks over at the woman again, then back to Daniel who is staring at him, mouth open and eyes wide. Somehow, despite the utter helplessness he was feeling moments ago in the medical ward, Jack feels light and very calm now. “Did you want something?”

“Yeah.” Daniel frowns, and then his jaw clenches stubbornly and he lifts his chin just a little. “Tell Jacob to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm ready to move on.” 

“You just giving up?” Jack wants to scream, to yell, to fight, but the strange calmness keeps him from doing any of that. 

That….and he has no right to keep Daniel here. He knows that he has given his partner every reason to want to give up and move on. He can imagine a future where Daniel is stuck on a cane, with a wheelchair, left on a ventilator. Unable to explore the galaxy or even the archaeological finds here on Earth. Losing his strength and vitality and purpose. Unable to articulate all of the words he has jumbled up inside his brilliant oversized brain.

No. They have no right to heal him if they cannot make him truly whole. If he does not want to return to his potentially ruined body. 

“No.” Daniel’s eyes go a little soft, and he gives Jack the tiniest hesitant smile. “No, I'm not giving up, believe me.”  _ Trust me, Jack _ . 

He looks over at the woman on the ramp, and Jack follows his gaze. While they watch, she changes into a familiar glowing ball of energy, and disappears into the ether, leaving behind an open wormhole where before there was just the empty Gate framework.

“You remember Oma?” Daniel asks, wrinkling his nose and giving Jack a look of still slightly embarrassed consternation that Jack can’t help but find overwhelmingly endearing. Daniel’s not still guilty about the last time they saw this glowing Oma being, because they’d been in a better place then and Jack had taken care of that guilt, but he’s embarrassed that it had gotten him spanked. For almost five years he willingly sought out discipline as a form of guilt relief at Jack’s hands, and here he is about to die, and he’s still embarrassed about it.

It’s just….so  _ Daniel. _ “Sure,” Jack chokes out, and he knows there’s a slight waver in his voice. 

“I think I can do more this way.” There are tears in Daniel’s eyes, and the hardened colonel can feel a corresponding prickle behind his lids. He tilts his head, but he can’t form any words. Daniel will understand the unspoken -  _ Are you sure?  _

“It's what I want,” Daniel insists, biting his lip. “I have to go now. Everything's gonna be fine.” Who is he reassuring? Himself or Jack? Jack needs it. He’s not ready to let go. He had committed to fixing things. He’d been allowing himself to dream again of getting Danny to forgive him and growing old together. Retiring from the Stargate and splitting their time between hanging out at the cabin and jetting around the world to all of Daniel’s favorite exotic places. “Please, Jack,” Daniel whispers, “Tell Jacob to stop.”

It’s what he wants. Too little, too late, but the ultimate sign that Jack has changed, can respect Daniel in all ways, is to do as he’s asking him to now. He blinks again, and they’re back in the infirmary, the whirring hum of the healing device still powered up in Jacob’s hands. 

“Jacob,” he says, and though his voice is low, everyone looks his way. “Stop.”

“Are you serious?” Jake looks flabbergasted. 

Jack can’t believe it himself, but he remembers Daniel’s plea.  _ Please, Jack. _ He nods once at Jacob. “It's what he wants.”

The Tok’ra looks around, but he doesn’t find anyone willing to contradict Jack. Even though they all knew that Jack and Daniel had been having some disagreements lately, Jack had always been Daniel’s next of kin from the moment he stepped back through the Gate after Abydos. They don’t like it any more than Jack does, but they trust him even now to know what Daniel would want. He has always been the expert in Doctor Daniel Jackson. Jacob looks at Janet again and snaps, “Someone else want to tell me what to do?”

Janet is crying, face crumpled, but she doesn’t give Jacob what he wants. “Just let him go,” Jack says quietly, and with one last look over at the colonel, Jacob gives in and the device goes dead. On the bed, Danny exhales once and the machine flatlines. “Colonel?!” Janet exclaims, horrified, but before Jack second-guesses himself, Daniel starts to glow. A bright orb just like Oma Desala rises from his body and ascends towards the ceiling, all eyes in the room transfixed by its beauty and the calm serenity they feel in its presence.

And then he’s back in the slightly blurry gate room, Daniel standing before him glowing even brighter than before. He’s openly crying, the tears making silent trails down his face. “I'm gonna miss you guys,” he says quietly.

“Yeah,” Jack forces himself to smile. He can give this to Daniel after everything - he can make this peaceful. If this is death, and ascension isn’t real, he can make it nice. Even if it breaks his own heart. “You too.”   
  


“Thank you,” Danny whispers, swallows, and gives him that sweet little smile that Jack has been missing for months.  _ I forgive you _ , that smile says,  _ I love you. I’m sorry. It’ll be okay.  _ “For everything.” 

“So…” Jack can’t say ‘goodbye’. If he says the words, acknowledges it, he won’t be able to go on without Daniel. “What?” he says instead, barely audible, “see you around?”

“I don't know,” Daniel says, but it’s in a voice filled with childlike wonder, as if he just realized this was happening. The same look he gets when he’s presented with a challenging translation or a good puzzle. He turns away from Jack and walks up the ramp, to the open wormhole. Right before he can step through, Jack can’t help it. 

“Hey,” he calls out, and Daniel turns back. Jack knows if he said ‘don’t go’ right now, Daniel would try to stay. He would try to stay, and he would probably die. They both know Selmak hadn’t been making any progress with the healing device. Even if he can prolong Daniel’s death, he won’t be able to bring him fully back. Instead of begging him to stay, Jack forces himself to ask, “…where  _ are _ you going?”

“I don't know,” Daniel says again, but he’s pleased. Off on another adventure. He gives Jack one more smile, and then he walks through the Gate without looking back again. He disappears, and Jack is back in the infirmary with his body, hoping desperately that it wasn’t all a hallucination.


	23. Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack tries to deal with Daniel being gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags to S6E6 ("Abyss") and S6E22 ("Full Circle"). As always, any dialog from the show is not mine. 
> 
> The last chapter without Daniel - I promise. :D After this, Jack will get his Daniel back. It's so close, I can taste it.

Jack refuses to give himself time to mourn. 

The General tries to insist on SG-1 taking some downtime, but Jack doesn’t even give the idea any thought. As far as he’s concerned, Daniel didn’t die. Daniel is alive, and off doing his good deeds somewhere else. The only thing Jack has to mourn is the end of their relationship, and since that was already in tatters and necessarily secret from the rest of the SGC, he can only claim the grief of someone who has had a close friend move far away.

And you don’t get time off from the Airforce for that. 

Janet also corners him and tries to appeal to him supposedly for the sake of his team.  _ “Regardless of your ill-chosen coping mechanisms, Colonel,” _ she says one day in the back corner of the mess hall,  _ “Your teammates are grieving. Why can’t you allow them the time for their grief?” _

Jack can’t let Teal’c and Sam mourn Daniel as dead, because that would make it too real a possibility. So he throws them into work instead, reluctantly accepting Jonas as their fourth only when it becomes a real possibility that the General will force him to take a Russian if he doesn’t. And there’s not that much wrong with the kid, or at least nothing a few months with SG-1 as mentors won’t fix, but he keeps Jonas at arm’s length because he’s too much like Daniel. If he pays attention to Jonas, allows Jonas to blossom on the team, he’ll have to remember what it was like to watch Daniel do the same. 

It would be a lie to say that the wound is healing. It sneaks up and grabs him at the oddest moments when a memory flashes in his head or he turns to say something to a teammate and partner that is no longer just behind him, day in and day out. And the pain is as fresh every time as the first; but Jack can roll with the punches and move on, shoving his sorrow into the deepest recesses of his mind and heart. He’s been a heartless bastard before, and he can do it again.

The confusion from Sam and disapproval from Teal’c at his apparent callousness is harder to ignore, but as weeks and then months pass, his friends see enough glimpses of Jack’s grief to realize that he’s not dealing any better than they are, and eventually they accept that he isn’t going to allow them to help him or allow himself to share in their more demonstrative sorrows. 

Overall, Jack is to all outwards appearances coping extraordinarily well. He isn’t even drinking. And since SG-1 continues to save the world one Gate-trip at a time, nobody will cross the threshold to call him on his bullshit. 

The first time that he can’t repress his feelings to the point of functioning like nothing is wrong is the anniversary of Charlie’s death. He knows the date, of course he does, and he has his own plans, as usual, to visit his son’s grave and then catch a baseball game and go feed the ducks at the pond. They get called into something off-world anyway, but it’s fairly straightforward and they wrap it up quickly enough that it only changes his plans from a live baseball game to one on TV. He’s standing in front of his locker, shrugging out of his BDUs and contemplating whether he could still make the second half of the live game if he hurries when he freezes in place. Charlie’s picture is hanging on the back of his locker door, exactly where it always has, but there’s a second picture there as well.

Jack has never known who took the picture off-world, but it had appeared in his base mail one day with no note of any kind. It’s all four of them walking away from the photographer, vests worn loose and gear slung over shoulders in a casual way that suggests whatever they were doing, it wasn’t an urgent or combat situation. Sam is on the left end, radio held up to her slightly tilted head as if she is listening closely to someone on the other end. Teal’c and Jack are next, Jack looking straight ahead, but you can barely see a tiny sliver of Teal’c’s face as if he has turned his head slightly to catch something Jack has said. 

And then there’s Daniel, caught in full profile, gazing at Jack with a look on his face that still makes Jack weak at the knees. Even from whatever distance the photographer had been taking the picture from, zoomed in on their team somewhat silhouetted against the sky where the sun is just beginning to set, you can see the trust and adoration in Danny’s face. Jack suspects Ferreti as the man behind the camera and has always hoped that Lou assumed it’s still a case of the hero-worship that he’s always teased Daniel had for Jack, since Abydos. 

Jack knows better. That look on Danny’s face is love. 

Nobody else had realized what today was, but Daniel had never once forgotten. Jack hadn’t told Daniel the date of his son’s death, but the archaeologist had found out somehow and in five long years, even when they were just tentative friends, he had never let the day pass without gentle and heartfelt acknowledgment. Last year, he had gifted Jack a new copy of the picture of Charlie that hangs in his locker, the same one that he keeps in his wallet and his pack off-world. He’d had it professionally restored to a vibrant quality that had been unheard of when it was first taken, and made a copy for each place Jack kept the photo. 

He reaches out and touches both photos now, side-by-side, and then collapses to the bench to put his head in his hands. Teal’c and Jonas have already changed and gone, so Jack has the dark lockerroom completely to himself for what feels like an eternity while he pulls himself together. He makes it to the cemetery and the duck pond before dark, watches the last two innings of the baseball game on his TV, and then when his ritual is complete and his thoughts turn back to Daniel, he gets blackout drunk. 

* * *

Everyone assumes that he accepted the Tok’ra symbiote because Sam had convinced him that it was important and that the Tok’ra symbiote would leave him as soon as another host had been found. It was easier to let them believe that than to try and explain the truth to anyone. 

The truth is that Jack doesn’t believe, deep down in his soul, that Daniel Jackson is gone forever. They’d given him all the scientific gobbledegook about how even if he had Ascended, Daniel’s body is gone, but Jack remembers the being who had taken up residence in Sam’s house. He’d been too old, his original body would have had to have been long ago rotted away to nothing, but he had assumed a new form on their plane of existence. 

So, if Daniel changes his mind, Jack believes he can come back. And if he does, Jack will be damned if he hasn’t done everything in his power to be there waiting….even to the point of taking a symbiote. It just took him a minute to come to that conclusion, and meanwhile, Sam had been speaking, giving him a convenient excuse. 

Now, Jack supposes that he probably should have tried to get more information about Kanan before he accepted the symbiote into his head. After Kanan enters his head, they do not blend. He doesn’t know if this is due to his resistance to the idea or if it is Kanan’s doing, but he is shoved into a dark corner of his own mind with nothing but his thoughts and memories and no way to get his body back or get word out to his people that he’s a prisoner. 

The first time he wakes up in the sarcophagus, he doesn’t have any idea that’s where he is. There’s a gentle, warm light surrounding him, and he feels great. He can’t see anything beyond a couple of inches because of the light, so he starts to move his arms, to feel around him, and the light breaks above him as the lid moves away, as if on cue in response to his movement. A Jaffa is peering down at him, shredding the illusion of warmth and safety, and then hands are dragging him out of the box and down the hallway. 

Jack can’t give Ba’al the information he wants. Not that he would, anyway, but he doesn’t even know what he’s not giving away, because he can’t remember. Occasionally when Ba’al says something there’s a brief hint of memory, but they’re fleeting and out of order; more confusing than helpful. The Goa’uld kills him a couple of times and asks the same questions before he seems to grow frustrated, or bored; the fourth time Jack wakes suffused in golden light inside the healing box, the Jaffa drag him to a cell instead of back to the torture platform. 

They shove him inside and step back, and he finds himself sliding awkwardly down the floor as it becomes a wall, landing hard and out of breath on the far wall which is now the floor of some sort of reverse tower. He’s reminded of a movie they’d watched once at a late team movie night;  _ ‘This is an oubliette’ _ the creepy little dude had said,  _ ‘It’s a place you put people to forget about them _ ’. Daniel and Teal’c had picked it, and Jack and Sam had had just enough alcohol to sit through the whole thing. A woman’s voice interrupts his memory and he glances up at her, sitting on the edge of the window, but she’s hazy in that strange way that might be the lingering effects of the sarcophagus or might mean she’s not real. 

There’s not a lot of time to dwell on the woman, because the next voice is definitely not real. 

“Hi, Jack.”

“Daniel…” His partner is inside the cell with him, sitting tucked up into the corner. He’s not wearing his glasses, and that combined with his favorite oversized cream sweater he’s wearing makes him look more like the first days he came to translate the cover stone than the days before he ascended. That, or like nights at home, casually curled into a chair or up against Jack’s headboard, book in one hand and coffee in the other. Jack has to remind himself to breathe normally, as his hallucination gives a little wave. 

“I leave,” Daniel says quietly, “and look at the mess you get yourself into.” Jack is still stunned silent, drinking him in, so Daniel offers, “It's good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” He walks across the cell and sits down on another bench carved from the wall, contemplating his imagination. He rarely is able to envision Daniel this lifelike; he is usually stuck with memories or knowing what his lover might say, but not being able to hear the words. “It's a shame you're a delusion.”

“No, I'm here. I'm…really here.”

“Sure you are.” Jack takes off his shoe and throws it across the cell. It passes right through Daniel and bounces off of the wall, falling to the ground between them. Daniel winces and Jack raises an eyebrow. 

“Here in the sense that my consciousness is here,” Daniel says dryly, “if not here in the full physical flesh and blood sense, which is really…neither…here nor there. The point is, you're not imagining this.” God, Jack has missed his partner’s quiet sarcasm, injected into even the most inappropriate moments. He almost smiles, but he would feel stupid smiling at his own delusion. Daniel isn’t here. The sarcophagus and the torture have just made him unusually imaginative. 

They argue back and forth about it for another minute, mostly because Jack is getting quite a bit of silent joy out of being able to rile Daniel up so easily, even now. He’s always found a hot and bothered Daniel to be, well, hot. But eventually, he has to at least pretend to concede the point - and, in truth, this is entirely too realistic to be his imagination. He wants to savor every minute of this time with Danny, but he also would like to be not here whenever Ba’al comes looking for him next. He leans forward and asks Daniel to help him escape. 

Daniel refuses. Jack can feel the time slipping through his fingers - Goa’uld are not known for their patience, and eventually, his captor will return wanting answers. After Daniel’s next not-answer, he drawls, “Well, thanks for stopping by, then.”

There’s something in Daniel’s face for a moment beside his implacable refusal to ‘interfere’. Jack might call it anguish if he had to give it a name. Daniel leans towards him. “Ba'al is torturing you and I wasn't just gonna sit by. Look, all he wants to know is the reason you came to this planet. You really don't know?”

“Do you?”    
  
Daniel doesn’t. All he knows is that the symbiote had been implanted, and then walked them off of the Tok’ra base undetected in the middle of the night and come to this godforsaken place. For a minute, Jack lets himself be mad about the implantation. His partner seems confused as to why he can’t remember anything, why the symbiote hadn’t  _ shared _ things with him, and Jack snaps at him again, saying of course he didn’t blend, he only took the symbiote because he was sick. He snaps his mouth closed before he can tell Daniel that it was because he couldn’t bear to die if there was a chance Daniel would come back to him in some way - he knows he should just tell him that, but the part of him that is a stubborn ass reminds him that Daniel isn’t being very helpful. For all Jack knows, he could be some sort of interrogation device. 

But at the mention of Jack being sick, Daniel draws back in on himself a little bit more, that same dark look flitting across his face as earlier. “I know,” he murmurs, and even as Jack is growling about how he got here, he wonders if Daniel has been watching them. Some sort of less than helpful guardian angel. Jack admits to knowing  _ something _ , these memories that aren’t his that are coming back in fits and starts, but he doesn’t know enough to bargain for his life. Not that Goa’uld do a lot of bargaining like that.

“Nobody knows you're  _ here _ ,” Daniel interrupts his attempts to remember more, and the intense concern on his face clues Jack in on how serious this situation is. Daniel starts thinking out loud, laying out the issues, and his frown grows deeper the whole time. “Even if they did, they'd never be able to pull off a rescue because this place is a fortress. Ba'al is just gonna keep on torturing you to death and reviving you in a sarcophagus until…he finds out what he wants, which is impossible because you don't know anything. Or until you're not worth reviving any more. But you'll cease to be the Jack O'Neill we know long before that.”

“Well,” is all Jack can come up with when his partner falls silent, “apparently, I've got a big day tomorrow.”

“No, I'm not gonna let that happen. I won't let him destroy you.” Belatedly, Jack realizes that Daniel had believed what he said earlier - that he was just comforting a friend. Daniel hadn’t realized nobody was coming for him, until just now. 

“You just said you couldn't help.”

“No, I can't stop Ba'al from torturing you any more than Oma could heal my radiation sickness, but…I can help you ascend.”

They volley briefly about that. Daniel is deadly serious, but Jack just can’t wrap his head around the idea of ascension, much less that it might be a path for him. He plays dumb about the mind games and the burdens, and Daniel stands up and starts to pace, getting expressive in his movements, and Jack interrupts his next explanation with, “Oh, there's gotta be another way outta here.”

“Jack…” the former archaeologist is visibly frustrated with him.

“What if you did a little scoutin' for me? That'd be all right wouldn't it?”

“No.”

“I'm not askin' you to knock down walls or anything, just a little recon.”

“Ba'al is just gonna torture you again.”

“Or…a, a zat gun…help me get my hands on a zat gun.”

“The next time is gonna be worse.”

“That's when we move, the next time they come for me.”

“You can't fight your way out of this.”

“Then help me!” Jack growls this last, raising his voice as he comes toe-to-toe with Daniel. The other man, as frustratingly as ever, does not appear to be threatened by Jack getting up in his space. He never was, even when he was a scrawny academic surrounded by soldiers for the first time. Their attempts to pull rank never intimidated Daniel, and he’s only ever offered respect to those he thinks deserve it.

“Not that way!” Daniel doesn’t match Jack’s furious snarl, but there is a definite strain on his voice. There’s a grating, grinding noise above them, most likely the mechanism that makes the ceiling back into a door. They look up. “They’re coming,” Daniel says unhelpfully. 

“They can see you, right?” He’s not ashamed to say there’s fear behind his words. He doesn’t want to be tortured to death several more times before Ba’al grows bored of him again. “We can use that.”

“I'll be back.” Daniel is still looking up, frowning, but his eyes are far away.

“A distraction,” Jack pleads desperately, “That's all I'm askin' for.” 

Danny locks eyes with him, and Jack can see right through him. Daniel may have been the one to pull away from their relationship, but not because he didn’t love Jack. Apparently, ascending didn’t change that either. There’s weight behind the words when he says, “I promise.”

Ba’al seems to have given up on the knives he used to cut holes in Jack and decided to progress to some sort of acid. It’s been a long time since Jack had to pass counter-interrogation training for special forces, but in this case, it doesn’t matter whether he still remembers how to do it. He doesn’t know anything that would interest Ba’al, and the Goa’uld seems to have a one-track mind. He doesn’t ask about the SGC or any of Earth’s defenses. He doesn’t even really ask about the Tok’ra, though Jack has precious little to share about them either. This time Ba’al only kills him twice before he’s deposited back in his cell. Time has started to not make sense. He’s dazed; staring up at the doorway, he sees the woman again. He can tell this time that she’s not real - Daniel had been more real than she is. She is a memory, but obviously important to why he’s here.

“Jack, who are you talking to?” There’s a concerned little frown between Daniel’s eyebrows.

“The woman.” 

Daniel looks up, but Jack already knows he won’t see her. “There's nobody there.”

“Look who's talking,” It’s almost funny, that now after all this time Jack is the one seeing things when Daniel isn’t even real. 

“Does it still hurt?”

“No.” He fingers the place in his shirt where the acid had burned a hole, but his chest underneath is solid. 

“Told you I'd come back.”

“If the Daniel Jackson I knew was really here…”

“I am,” he interrupts.

“Then  _ do _ something.” Daniel shuts his eyes and looks away. Irrationally, Jack feels himself getting pissed. He rolls over and leaps to his feet, coming right up next to his partner. “You listen to me,” Daniel’s eyes flick upwards, not quite meeting his eyes. “I don't wanna go through that again. If you were really my friend and had the power to stop it, you'd stop it!”

It’s unfair, he knows it’s unfair the moment it leaves his mouth, but he’s tired and he’s scared and he might not be actively in pain but he hasn’t forgotten any of the torture Ba’al has inflicted yet. Daniel is looking at the ceiling, and Jack remembers that move from his marriage - Sara had been able to hold back tears that way. “The hardest part of being who or what I am is having the power to change the things I want to change and knowing that I can't. Even when I'm certain, even when it's…absolutely clear to me, even when it affects the people I care about. Because for all I can do, I'm no more qualified to play God than the Goa'uld are. Ba'al will keep this up.”

He can’t keep looking at his former lover’s face. Jack turns away, pressing his forehead against one of the bright light panels. “Yes, he will.”

“So we don't have an unlimited amount of time.” Jack knows Daniel’s advocating for the ascension idea again, so he doesn’t look over. 

“Gotta be someplace, do ya?” 

“No,” Daniel replies, in a voice that says he’s at least a little hurt by Jack’s scorn and dismissal of his plan. But he changes track, trying something other than convincing Jack to ascend. “Look, there must be a reason that Kanan came back here. Was it for the woman? The one you were just talking to? She must have something to do with all of this.”

“You know…screw it…it doesn't matter. Carter and Teal'c'll think of somethin'.” He says dismissively. And if he knows the ‘screw it’ in this context sounds a little more like ‘screw you’, well, he can’t bring himself to care. He doesn’t, however, look up to see if the barb hit home.

“Even if they could find out where you are…”

“And you know…Jonas…he's at least as smart as you,” Jack turns back to Daniel finally, snarling this, and it’s in time to see the rejection in Daniel’s eyes, his hands shoved into his pockets, even as he keeps his voice steady and replies calmly.

“There isn't always a way out, Jack.”

But it was enough. He knows that Daniel just wants to help him, and their methods have never been the same. Daniel fervently expresses his concern about the sarcophagus, and how he won’t be able to help Jack ascend if he has to use it too many times - and they both know that’s true. If a dozen uses had turned Daniel Jackson into a selfish aristocratic airhead, Jack can only imagine what it will do to him. Perhaps has already done to him, because he feels anger at Daniel pulsing underneath his skin, where a few minutes ago and the many long months leading up to this, he swore he would give anything to have Daniel back in his arms. He wryly admits to himself, even as he argues, that he’s a complete moron. Daniel is offering him some sort of forever, and Jack isn’t taking it. 

Daniel again insists that he’s a better man than he says he is, that ascension is possible for him, and Jack roars, “That's where you're wrong!”

His best friend stares at him and then turns away. “Right now, I can't imagine doing or being anything other than what I am. I see things, I understand things, in a way I never could have before. But I chose this. Even when Jacob was trying to heal me, I chose this. But you, in the place you're at right now, you don't have any other choices.” There’s a slight tremble in his voice, and then Danny yells a little too. “This is not your life we're talking about, Jack! This is your soul! This is it! What I'm offering you is your only way out.”

“You're wrong about that too. I have another choice.”

Daniel closes his eyes and looks weary. “What are you talking about?”

Jack just looks at him, hard. There’s a reigning silence, and slowly a look of horror and then stubborn refusal pass across Daniel’s face. “No,” he says, shaking his head in denial.

“Any minute, they're gonna come. Ba'al is gonna kill me again. You can make it the last time.”

“Don't ask me to do that.”

“You can put an end to it.”

“I won't do it.”

They both hear the mechanism for the door, looking up. “I'd do it for you, and you know it.” Not wanting to be thrown to the floor yet again, Jack hurries over and lays down, positioning himself to land on his feet. “I  _ don't _ want to see this cell again, Daniel,” he says without looking back at his friend.

He understands the next time he’s returned to his cell, and he’s alone, that he’s finally pushed Daniel away. Good. He knows that Daniel won’t kill him, and he doesn’t want his partner to stick around and watch him die. He sits quietly on the ground and tries to convince himself that it’s better that Daniel isn’t around, to see him slowly go insane. That he doesn’t want him there. He tries to immerse himself in memories of happy days, instead. That conviction holds out until he goes back on the torture wheel, and then he breaks down and calls out for Daniel anyway. The Goa’uld thinks he’s cracking up, calling out random names, but Jack just wants desperately not to be alone. One of the times he calls Daniel’s name it’s as he blacks out again, and he comes to already tossed into the cell. The sarcophagus isn’t working as well anymore; it’s taking longer for him to heal and wake up. But this time, he doesn’t feel alone.

“Daniel?” he says, and despite himself, he feels hopeful.

“I’m here.”

“You were gone,” he accuses, and he can’t keep the sadness out of his tone.  _ I’m sorry I asked you to kill me, _ he wants to say,  _ but please don’t leave me alone. _ But he doesn’t have the energy to say it.

“I know,” Daniel’s voice is full of regret, as he comes over and kneels next to Jack. “I'm sorry, there was something I had to do, but, I'm back now and I promise I'll stay with you 'til this is over.”

And he had. He’d claimed that Sam, Teal’c, and Jonas had come up with something, found Jack, and formed a plan on their own, but as he lays in the infirmary bed, Jack strongly suspects that’s not true. Daniel has a long history of being shy to the point of reticent about taking credit for his successes, and while he admires the rest of his team, it was quite the feat. When he opens his eyes, Daniel is standing next to the bed, though the rest of the team appears unable to see him. So knowing Daniel is listening, he complements the rescue and lets them defer the praise, just like the man next to bed would. When they walk away, he turns his head silently to Daniel.

“I always seem to be saying goodbye to you,” Danny says a little wistfully, arms wrapped around himself.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” He’s too weak to move, much less reach up and drag Daniel down for the hug he looks like he needs. “Why don't you stick around for a while?”

“I can't, really,” There’s something underneath Daniel’s quiet voice that has Jack worried. He’d insisted he couldn’t interfere, and yet Jack knows he had. What kind of punishments can creepy groups of ascended rulers give out?

“You just did,” he points out, to keep Daniel talking. 

“Special occasion.”

“Christmas?”

“No.”

“Groundhog Day?”

“Nooo,” he draws out the word, not looking up at Jack.

“I've got my journey, you've got yours?”

“Something like that, yeah. Look, I know you don't think so…right now, I mean I know you have your doubts, but uh, because you've been through something that no one should have to go through.” He’s finally looking at Jack, that earnestly honest expression that can get people to give him whatever he wants. “I guess what I'm trying to say is…you're gonna be alright.”

“How do you know?” Jack whispers.

“You're just gonna have to trust me.”

The last time Daniel had asked for his trust, Jack had refused it. As a result, his partner had pulled away from him, the hurt too deep, and eventually he’d died. So there’s only one possible response Jack can give him right now. “I can do that.” He’s rewarded with a tiny, glimmering smile, the first one he’s seen on ascended Daniel. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I'm gonna be fine.” That’s a load of shit, and Jack opens his mouth to protest the lie he can read in Daniel’s face, but then the door opens - Sam coming back with the water he requested. And Daniel is gone.

* * *

They manage to stay out of trouble after that - or at least, get into the normal amount of SG-1 trouble - and Jack doesn’t see Daniel again. He almost feels like maybe he’s starting to recover and move on, and then one day he gets on an elevator alone, and there he is. 

He’s dressed the same as last time, the big cream sweater, and now Jack wonders if that’s what he sees because that’s what he wants to see. Without so much as a by-your-leave, Daniel just launches into a very complicated story, talking a mile a minute. Jack, needing the minute to recover from the shock and make sure his heart has restarted, waits him out. When he pauses to take a breath, Jack deliberately turns away to put the handset back on the wall and says, “I'm sure that was an aspirin I took this morning.”

“Jack, it's really me,” Daniel responds earnestly. “It's me, you have to help, you have to find the Eye of Ra before Anubis does. Keep it, hide it, destroy it, whatever, it doesn't matter, we don't have much time.”

Ignoring all of that, he volleys back, “Hey Daniel, how ya doing? Long time. How are things on the higher planes?” Daniel turns around, takes a deep breath facing the back of the elevator, and then swings around to face Jack once more.

“Hey Jack, long time no see. H-h-h-how you doing?” he asks, voice dry.

“Fine, just fine.”

“The knees? The back? Everything's…”

“Oh you know, kind of weather contingent actually.”

“Right, right, right, right, s-so, what's new?” Daniel leans up against the wall, one hand on his hip, looking impatient. The stuttering is rare, meaning he’s truly flustered.

“Uhm…actually a funny thing happened to me, today. I'm riding an elevator and an old friend of mine, someone who never calls, never writes…,” he lets his voice trail off. Daniel rolls his eyes, the brat, and crosses his arms over his chest. “…just shows up and tells me all about this very important and apparently urgent mission that needs my attention.”

“You gonna help, or, or…”

Of course he’s going to help. He couldn’t turn down Daniel, even if he was willing to abandon the people of Abydos. Skaara. Still, it’s disconcerting and uncomfortable to walk into the briefing room along and admit he’s been talking to a dead person. Of course, then Teal’c, one of the most grounded people he knows, says  _ he _ saw Daniel when he was struggling to keep himself and Bra’tac alive. Apparently, Daniel breaks the rules all the time, when push comes to shove and his friends are in danger. That shouldn’t make him feel so...warm and fuzzy inside, but it does. Jack has to keep from smiling, but he’s still relieved that his people and the General don’t think he’s insane. 

Skaara is waiting for them on Abydos and takes them down to a very Daniel-y place. Apparently, Daniel has been here with him searching for the Eye of Ra, but so far, no treasure. Jonas gets to work and Jack wanders around, killing time, catching up on Skaara’s life. He doesn’t push too hard on Jonas, until Teal’c radios down that they are under attack. Jonas has nothing, so Jack turns to the open cavern and demands their missing archaeologist's presence. Everyone else seems surprised when Daniel materializes, and he absently greets them, but another boom shakes the cavern and Jack reclaims his wayward partner’s attention. 

“You hear that?” he points at the roof.

“I can't do anything about that, you know that,” Daniel looks down.

“I don't care,” Jack threatens. “Do something or we walk. Right now.” He isn’t even sure if he’s bluffing. How many of the Abydonians can he get through the Stargate? How many will he be leaving behind to get slaughtered?

“Remember that fine line we were talking about?” Daniel tries again, looking...scared.

“Cross it,” Jack says, thinking of Skaara, of the boy he was and the wedding he’s invited them to. Daniel wanted him to help these people - and the best help he can give them is Daniel. He refuses to be afraid of some mythical people Daniel admitted never meeting, and he won’t let Daniel make choices based on that either.

Daniel looks down and then nods, turning away with a sigh. It’s not his usual sigh of acceptance, there’s something else deep within it, but Jack doesn’t have time to analyze it at that moment. He barely hears Daniel when he whispers, “Okay,”, and then their little genius is off at light speed solving the problem. Nobody else would have solved it, of that Jack is still certain. 

The endgame plan depends on Daniel facing off against Anubis. He doesn’t sound confident, but he sounds determined. It’s all forces and players Jack can’t fight, knows nothing about, so he accepts the plan. They hand over the Eye of Ra, and they go home. But something goes wrong - the people of Abydos are dead. Skaara is dead. Or, rather, they’ve ascended - but for all that seems to mean, it is beyond Jack’s reach, and so they might as well be dead. They failed, and Sam is right - if Daniel failed to save the Abydonians, and Skaara claims to have not seen him since ascending, something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. 

It doesn’t hurt any less, this losing him again. The guilt eats away at him whenever he pauses to think about it - the fact that they haven’t seen Daniel back, that Daniel was unable to keep the Abydonians safe, feels very final. He remembers his partner’s fear of the retaliation of the mysterious “others”, and he knows that Daniel only crossed the line he had drawn in the sand because Jack asked it of him. He had been reckless, possibly foolish, in trying to do what Jack had demanded. That will always be Jack’s fault.

If he hadn’t done that, if he had listened to Daniel instead, would things be different? He can’t do anything for Daniel now, but Daniel had brought them this tablet. All they  _ have _ is this mysterious tablet, supposedly with the location of some lost city of ancient technology. Sam and Jonas both independently take the time to tell him how passionate Daniel had seemed about what was described on the tablet, so solving that puzzle is the task SG-1 throws themselves wholeheartedly into. 

It’s a good thing that he can’t contribute much to the translation effort because for several weeks Jack is useless. Colonel O’Neill might be excited about the idea of great weapons in a lost city, but Jack O’Neill thinks it’s a shitty trade, and he would give anything for Daniel back. 

He’s afraid this time, Daniel is gone for good.


	24. Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the team recovers something that was lost, but not all is well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S7E1 ("Fallen"). :) As always, any dialogue from the show is not mine.

It’s weird, trying to find a place amongst these people. He remembers language (so much language, and most of them languages these strangers don’t even speak) and he remembers things; he seems to have all the skills required of a fully-functioning adult, but he doesn’t know his own name. He doesn’t know how he got here, or why he was naked, or how he knows the few things he does. 

They’re a little wary at first, but they take him in anyway. They give him a place to live, productive tasks to contribute to their society, even a name (though he’s still not sure if they chose it because it was accurate or if it was supposed to be funny). 

Despite all of their kindnesses, he knows he doesn’t belong here. Unfortunately, without the ability to remember where he does belong, these people are all he has. He wanders around in a sort of confused fog, doing whatever tasks they find fitting for him during the day. At night, he retires to a lonely tent by himself and he dreams. He knows he dreams, but infuriatingly, he never remembers any of them.

The day that the Chappa’ai comes to life is the first time he thinks he almost remembered something. The big stone ring has always felt strangely familiar to him, ever since he arrived. It has been a covert interest, for the most part, sitting quietly alone and staring at the ring, because the people of Vis Uban are wary of his obsession. He’s foraging out in the forest on the day when he hears the sound and he quickly abandons his task, hurrying through the trees. 

Preoccupied, he comes face to face with the men in their strange green clothes before he’s even aware of them, and he freezes.  _ Guns _ , his mind supplies, though since the Vis Ubans have nothing of the sort, he isn’t sure why he knows that. The young man closest to him is already lowering his weapon, his eyes wide. He tilts his head a little and licks his lips, saying, “Uh, hi.”

“Doctor Jackson?” The other young man sounds confused, but a little hopeful. 

“Uh...no,” he answers, but at the way their faces seem to fall, he rushes on to clarify. “I mean, uh, I don’t know. But I have some sort of amnesia, and I don’t know who I am, so…” he looks around, but if any of the other villagers heard the Chappa’ai, they haven’t come to investigate. “Do you know me?”

They exchange a look, and the one who was in closest to him says, “Can you wait here a second, sir?” The two of them beckon over some companions, whose eyes go just as wide at seeing him standing there, and they have a hushed but urgent conversation. Finally, one of them turns back to him. “I think you better come with us if you don’t mind?”

He’s bemused but uncertain of refusing this group of armed people. He feels like they aren’t a threat to him, but it makes him nervous that he doesn’t know why he feels like that. So he follows the young soldier back to the village, the rest of his unit meandering along with them. 

When they come down the stairs in the village proper and turn the corner, the first thing he notices is that there are more strangers dressed in the same green clothes huddled with some of the village leaders. This must be why nobody else had come to the Chappa’ai - the strangers had already come to the village. His young guide seems excited, calling out to the group, and he follows the boy’s gaze to an older man who steps forward ahead of the rest.

“Daniel?” the man says, and his voice wavers on the name like it means something truly special to him. Something in him shifts, his heart racing at the sound of the man’s voice, and he’s overcome with a rush of emotions he hasn’t felt since waking up in this strange forest.  _ Safetyaffectionlovesadnessfear _ . Almost without thought, he walks closer, trying to get close enough to see the man’s features. 

“Arrom,” comes Khordib’s voice from behind the man, who whirls around. 

“Arrom?” The man demands, sounding incredulous. 

“It is what we call him,” Khordib supplies helpfully with a laugh in his voice, while Shamda adds, “It means naked one.” The man turns back to stare at him, and he looks away, uncomfortable. He’s not sure why their leader felt the need to add that part of the story, anyway. Then Khor continues with, “That is how we found him in the forest, two moons ago.”

Has it really been that long? That short? It feels like forever and yet no time at all that he has been the strange, memoryless stranger amongst these people. “It seems he doesn’t remember who he is,” the young soldier from the Chappa’ai supplies, still sounding rather proud of himself. 

“Daniel?” It’s a woman’s voice this time, but he has to squint to make out that, yes, one of the company is a woman. It’s a little clearer when she tries to walk up and reaches out touch him, all smiles. “It’s okay, it’s me, Sa-” Startled, having not been touched since he woke up here, he shies away from her hand. He doesn’t think he likes to be touched. 

A traitorous part of his mind supplies that he wouldn’t mind if the older man’s hand came down on his shoulder, but he doesn’t want the woman to touch him. He holds up a hand, flinching, preventing her from making the contact. She looks terribly upset, and his stomach clenches painfully. Clearly, that was the wrong answer. He looks at her again, and something stirs in his head - there’s almost a memory, a hint of a bright smile below her blue eyes - but then a lancing pain.    
  
“Do you not recognize us, DanielJackson?” asks the big dark man who has been silent until now, and something in him recognizes that voice too, with the same mix of conflicting feelings;  _ trustloyaltybetrayalfearlove. _

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. The feelings with no memories to back them up is overwhelming. His head starts to spin, the lancing pain of oncoming migraine threatening to send him to his knees, so he flees the scene, heading for his tent, and some privacy to freak out about everything that is happening. But before he can get out of earshot, the older man calls out.    
  
“Not even me?” The tone of voice makes him shiver but also want to run back and beg the man to keep talking until he remembers everything. Not allowing himself to look back, he flees to the safety of his tent. His world has been so simple since he came here, nothing to worry about except quietly pulling his weight amongst the tribe, and now that peace is torn to shreds. It might be nice to remember if these indeed are his people. But what if he doesn’t remember them for a reason? 

He is afraid. He knows a little about amnesia, and it doesn’t usually happen because life’s been peachy.

* * *

Jack regrets the sarcastic demand of ‘not even me?’ as soon as it leaves his mouth - he doesn’t need Teal’c’s judgmental raised eyebrow for that. Daniel’s already fled, losing himself in the crowd, the older man following close behind. All he wants is to run after his partner, but Reynolds is nearly vibrating tension on the steps, and the two local men they’d been conversing with are staring intently at him. “What do you mean, you found him?” he demands.

The villager they’ve been dealing with so far tilts his head back and points at the sky. “There was a flash of light, and then there he was. Naked as the day he was born, lying in the forest.”

“He doesn’t know who he is?” Carter looks over at Reynolds, who shakes his head.

“No, ma’am. It seemed like he maybe recognized the uniforms. He wasn’t afraid of us or the P90s, but he didn’t respond to his name at all, or recognize any of us personally.”

“Arrom doesn’t remember anything,” says the young man who had greeted them, stepping towards Jack. “He knows many things - tasks and languages and stories - but it is as if he was created a full-grown man and abandoned here.”

Jack looks at Sam and Teal’c, who stare back at him. They’re all very much in shock, but their shock isn’t helping Daniel or getting their job done. He takes a deep breath and turns back to Reynolds and his company. “Go back to the Gate, and continue your tasks.” They salute and march off, and he turns back to his own team. “Carter, Jonas, Teal’c, go ahead and work on the original mission objectives here for a while. I’ll go…” he looks over towards where Daniel had disappeared, and helplessly shrugs a little, “...see if I can jog our boy’s memory.”

That’s not what he’s thinking at all. What he’s really thinking about is grabbing Daniel in a tight embrace and never letting go - the only thing that stops him, forcing him to take it slow, is that he just watched Daniel shy away from contact with a woman who might as well be his sister; whatever is going on here, it’s clear Danny is going to need some special handling. 

Khordib volunteers to show Jack to Daniel’s tent, and the colonel thanks and dismisses him once they’re close enough, so he can wander in alone. It’s a generously sized tent; it seems these people have been taking pretty good care of Daniel. Daniel who is, currently, sitting in the gloomiest corner of the tent, hunched over his legs. He looks up at the sound of Jack’s entrance and then looks away, holding up a hand as if he needs to physically keep Jack at bay. “Please leave me alone,” he says, but the tone doesn’t match the words. 

Danny is scared. Jack can hear it. But they’re not giving up without a fight, and they’re not going home without Daniel. “I’m Jack O’Neill,” Jack ignores the request and moves slowly over to the corner of the tent, lowering himself to sit. “And, barring some freakish similarity, you are  _ Doctor _ Daniel Jackson.”

It’s a little hard to see in the dark of the tent, but the way the light shines on one side of his face from a narrow opening in the canvas above them makes it look like Daniel is barely holding back tears. “This tent is all I know,” he whispers, “and these people, they're all I know. Before I woke up in the forest, I don't remember anything. I've tried. I've tried to remember who I was before. Sometimes I think it's right there, floating in front of me, and all I have to do is reach out and grab it. I try—and it's gone.”

Jack takes a breath and leans forward.  _ Keep it simple _ , he thinks to himself. Vaguely, he thinks he remembers reading about how you were supposed to let amnesia patients recover their memories naturally. “You were a member of my team, SG-1. You're a friend of mine. Last year, you died.”

“I'm dead?” Daniel asks, looking startled and concerned.

“Obviously not,” Jack looks up into uncomprehending blue eyes. “You just sort of died. Actually, you…ascended to a higher plane of existence. Last time I saw you, you were helping us fight Anubis.”

“Anubis?” 

“Yeah.” So much for keeping it simple. “Kind of an over-the-top, cliché bad guy. Black cloak, oily skin, kind of spooky. Anyway, obviously since then, you've retaken human form, somehow. I…” Jack pauses, gives a quick shake of his head to clear his thoughts and looks up at Daniel. The man is looking away, clearly more than a little skeptical of Jack’s tale. “Actually, I can how this might sound a bit unusual.”

“A bit?” Daniel rolls his eyes, and Jack has to bite back a grin at the familiar sarcastic attitude. “Why am I here?”

“Hey,” he spreads his hands in a wide, flat arc, “why are any of us here?” Daniel looks away, scowling, and Jack has to grimace as well. This isn’t going smoothly. He’s seen flickers of recognition in the man - any mention of the Stargate, the SG-1 uniforms, Anubis’ name; but he seems to have no memory of individual people. “Honestly, I don't know, but you've got to trust me. You are Daniel Jackson. Think of it this way: out of all the planets in the galaxy, why this one if not for us to find you?”

Jack points at him and watches closely as Daniel lifts his head to look at him. “So you're saying a higher power had a hand in putting me here?” the archaeologist asks skeptically. 

“I don't know.” What he does know, is that he needs to be as honest with Daniel as he can. There are enough things that he can’t tell him, he doesn’t need questions about the things he can muddying the waters if Daniel starts to remember. “That was generally your department.”

The frown on Daniel’s face only deepens, heavy shadows forming in the creases on his forehead, but it’s Daniel’s puzzle face, not the sadness from when Jack first walked in, so he feels a little calmer about it. Taking a chance, he reaches out and lays his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. He’d prefer to wrap it around the back of his partner’s neck, gently massage the pressure points there, but that would be pushing it. Daniel looks at his hand and then lifts his eyes to Jack’s, but doesn’t shrug the hand off, which feels like a great success. 

Jack squeezes Daniel’s shoulder, once, firmly, and then stands up. “I’ll leave you with your thoughts,” he pauses and then adds, “We’d like you to come home.”

* * *

As much as he doesn’t want to be, he is drawn to these people. Even without a single memory of them, he feels like he knows them. Sometimes, before they speak, he knows what they will say. It’s the  _ most _ disorienting sense of deja vu. When their leader -  _ Jack _ , not  _ Jim _ \- leaves the tent, it’s not very long before the woman -  _ Sam _ \- comes in to make her impassioned plea. When she’s describing him, it sounds like she’s describing a hero from a folk tale, not a person. 

Still, something about the way she’s looking at him is so intense. There’s a faint sense of affection, of recognition; but a comfortable one. The feeling he’d gotten off of Jack had been brighter, but less comfortable, his stomach clenching and heart racing under the older man’s dark eyes. Daniel believes he and Sam were friends, but he’s convinced he and Jack were. And he knows he’s not a fan of the military, so he’s hesitant to put himself in the hands of this military unit when he doesn’t remember them. 

Whatever else he’s thinking about, his feelings for these people have been stronger than anything he’s felt in the two moons he has been in Vis Uban. Perhaps that is what makes him ask Sam whether they’d been in a relationship, which is so disturbingly forward that he has to fight not to blush when she turns back, surprised. But it doesn’t clear anything up - as she ducks out of the tent, he turns the way she’d said “Us?” in that shocked tone over and over in his head. 

It was a tone of voice that said that while she may not have been his lover, she knew more about the subject than she was letting on. 

Had he left a partner behind in their world, as well as a team that claimed to miss him and a job that sounded (if he was being very honest with himself) utterly fascinating? 

If he had left a partner behind, didn’t they deserve for him to come home? Even if he never remembered them, wouldn’t the closure be better? 

In the end, that’s what decides him. Before he can change his mind, he gathers up what few personal things he has acquired in his time with the tribe here and shoves them into a leather satchel he’d been gifted to do his gathering. He has barely anything, a journal and a few odds and ends, but he refuses to think about how depressing that is. Everything else they have given him to live - the clothes, the kettle and pan, the bedding...Daniel leaves those behind. They can serve the next poor soul adopted into this kind tribe. If he is the strangers’ Doctor Daniel Jackson, hopefully, they have saved some of his clothing and other belongings for him. 

As he looks out of the flaps of his tent at the place he has called home for literally as long as he can remember, he spots them easily. Sam and Jack have been joined by the other two members of the four-man team, who seem to be giving an update on their finds in the ruins. The big dark man’s voice carries over the younger man’s all the way to Daniel.

“What of Daniel Jackson?”

“He's going home,” he steps out into the sunlight as they look over, giving a brisk nod when he can’t summon a smile and watching their reactions. Sam grins, and so does the young man ( _ Joe? James? _ He doesn’t remember). The big man gives a quiet little smile and inclines his head, a solemn gesture but one that doesn’t lack any of his companion’s warmth. Daniel observes all of this, but his focus is on their leader. The man gives him a long, slow look, and then smiles as he turns away, frustratingly hiding the rest of his reaction.

* * *

The medical examination is disturbingly thorough, but he has no complaints about the bedside manner of the petite doctor who performs it. She notices right away that the stares and whispers of the nursing staff are getting to him, and she sends them away and takes him to a slightly more private corner to finish. She -  _ Janet _ \- keeps up a gentle running commentary while she works. He doesn’t have the information to comprehend half of what she says, but it’s nice to have someone treat him mostly as if everything was normal. He gets that strange disconnect again - if he zones out a little, everything about this feels completely normal, but when he tries to focus on remembering anything specific about her, the pounding headache threatens to resume. 

It’s easier, in the end, to just sort of float along half-aware of what’s going on around him. 

Jack walks in just as she’s wrapping up, and she addresses him in a way that makes it seem as if she’s always given him updates on Daniel’s health directly. Daniel supposes he was under the man’s command, but it feels more informal than that. It’s another piece of a puzzle that he can’t even begin to put together. When she hands him the pair of glasses, and he gets his first clear look at the man, and his first thought is,  _ when did his hair get so gray? _ It comes out of his mouth before he thinks about what it will sound like. “Has your hair always been that way?”

“What way?” Jack looks clueless, and the moment of recognition passes.

“Nevermind,” Daniel shakes his head and looks back at the doctor. She smiles a little wistfully at him but clears him to go. He wonders if she, too, is a friend who is going to be bothered that he doesn’t remember, or if she’s just his doctor.

Jack takes him to a room filled with random things, supposedly that belong to Daniel. At first, he seems content to stand in the middle of the room, watching Daniel move around and look, picting things up and seting them back down, until Daniel zeros in on the framed picture on the nightstand and picks it up. “I know her.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a statement, more of a question, but he does feel like he recognizes the beautiful woman in the photo.

“Really?” The hopeful tone of Jack’s voice makes him realize his mistake, and he looks over at the man across the room. It was a small room when they walked in, but the distance suddenly feels enormous.    
  
“I mean, I must, right?” Jack had just said these were his personal things - why would he have a picture of a woman he didn’t know? But his brain doesn’t supply any information about her besides recognition and a very faint sense of melancholy. 

“Yeah…” Jack looks away while he responds, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. His open, cheerful body language is suddenly very closed off, and he turns slightly away from Daniel. The sense of loss takes his breath away. 

“Who is she?” He’s already tired of the ‘remembering will come in its own time’ advice that Janet had just given him. They all know - why can’t they just tell him about himself? Surely he has a length, detailed personal life history on file with the air force. Maybe he can get his hands on it. “What’s her name?”

The older man’s eyes are steady on his face, solemn, and with something else behind the solemnity. Is that sadness? Over Daniel? He doesn’t understand it. “You tell me,” he says quietly, and then leaves, closing the door behind himself before Daniel can object. 

He dreams of the woman in the photo. Little bits of this and that, overlaid with a deep sense of affection. He wakes, and he knows her name. The first thing he wants to do is tell Jack - but he has no idea why, and anyway, the airman outside his door tells him that ‘Colonel O’Neill’ has gone home for the night. Something of how lonely and adrift he feels as she finishes making that statement must show on his face because the young woman tells him that Teal’c’s in his rooms on the base, and how to get there. 

Teal’c confirms that he wasn’t imagining things about the woman in the picture, and then Daniel convinces him to tell him about things that are going on around them. The man stubbornly refuses to tell Daniel anything about  _ Daniel _ , but he’s willing to share information that is purely non-personal. Which is ten steps ahead of where he was before they chatted. He also invites him to sit down and join him in meditation - and admits solemnly that it was something they have often done together. So Daniel settles across from him, watching the warm glow of the flickering candles on the man’s face, and lets himself accept the peace of the meditation.

It gives him the confidence to go to the briefing about the project, though he wasn’t invited. He’s still getting flashes of recognition as he walks the halls - a sign here, a face there. 

He sits down next to Sam, trying not to look up at Jack even though he can feel the other man’s eyes on him. There’s a sense of irrational hurt at the fact that the man had walked out of his room yesterday and not returned or sought him out; irrational because he knows nothing about this man. Maybe they’re not even friends. Daniel supposes that whatever glowing things Sam had said in the tent on Vis Uban, maybe working for the military comes with working under a commander who doesn’t like him. That doesn’t explain the feelings he’s been having, though - those would be better explained by a strong relationship with the man. For some reason he can’t even explain to himself, he chooses to needle Jack again in retaliation for the day before and pretends he doesn’t know his name. 

Jonas’ translations are wrong. Or, well, Daniel supposes it’s his fault, since the translations that the other man was working from are his own (he recognizes his handwriting, strangely enough), and they are wrong. He can read the ancient now, as easily as his other 20-odd languages, and it’s not right. He explains all of that to the group around the table, shuffling the papers around in front of him. 

“So,” Jack says, and Daniel finally looks up at him, “the lost city is still lost?”

“I’m pretty sure,” he agrees, glancing at Sam who has gone still and tense beside him. She looks a little worried, but it could just be surprise that he can suddenly read Ancient. If his own notes on the subject are correct, he was mostly guessing before.

“You know, you told me to give Anubis that eye.” Jack leans forward across the table, sounding irritated. 

“According to reports from our allies,” Sam interjects, in a conciliatory voice, “Anubis is quickly conquering the other system lords.”

“He will dominate the galaxy in a very short time,” Teal’c adds, gravely. Daniel’s glad they are offering explanations because he’s still a little lost. Whatever he might be remembering, the recent past is still a complete blank. 

“I only did it,” from across the table, Jack’s voice is starting to rise, “because  _ you _ said we could  _ whup _ his ass with what we’d find in this lost city.” It’s accusatory, and he can feel his heart start to race a little, faced down with the frown on the colonel’s face. 

“Well if I said that the-then I hope i-it’s true, but,” Daniel looks around at them, seeking a friendlier face, profoundly regretting coming down to this meeting. “L-look, all I know is that the place you’re searching right now is not it.” 

“Then where  _ is _ , ‘it’?” Nobody else will quite meet his eyes, and Jack’s question forces him to look back over. 

Daniel’s frustrated, still tired, and lost. He resorts to the first response that comes to mind. “Did I just say, ‘all I know?’,” he wonders aloud, looking over at Sam whose eyes are a little wide and then across to Teal’c, who is smirking a little (he thinks that’s a memory, too - Teal’c’s face doesn’t look that much different than before, but Daniel just knows he’s holding back a laugh). 

“Everyone, turn away,” Jack says, and Daniel’s eyes jerk back over to him. He looks pissed, and his voice is dangerously flat. “I want no witnesses.” The threat in the man’s words is clear. 

He definitely shouldn’t have come. Maybe he should have just stayed on Vis Uban. The barbed words hurt, and he hates that this essential stranger can say a few words and make his stomach knot like that. Looking down, he sits back in his chair and falls silent. As the meeting progresses he contributes only the very most vital of information about translations and escapes as fast as he can when the meeting is over. 

* * *

The plan is insane, but it’s the only plan they have. They’ve spent several days on it. Jack hates it, expressing his disapproval quite vocally, but he doesn’t have any alternatives to offer, so they’re moving forward. In between hours of working with Jonas on their part of it, Daniel has been reading and reading and reading. He finally convinced the General to give him access to his own logs and files, arguing passionately that the fate of this planet is surely more important than his own recovery, and he’s catching up on most of a decade of serving with SG-1. Thankfully, that doesn’t backfire on him. With each night that he dreams, and each hour he sits in meditation with Teal’c, Daniel remembers more. 

He remembers things in reverse. Inconsequential things come quickly and easily, filling his head with places and foods and faces of people he only knows in passing. After that, he gets a pretty good handle on most of his team. He remembers how much Teal’c loves to watch Earth culture movies with them, his ironic humor, and all the times they saved each other. He knows the joy Sam finds in a puzzle solved that has been eluding everyone else, he remembers sitting in a workroom helping her with her bike, he knows how much she loves her dad. He remembers that Jacob calls him ‘Danny’. He can picture General Hammond’s granddaughters and remembers going to the amusement park with Janet and Cassie. 

The slowest things to come have been memories of Jack. Daniel’s gotten only the tiniest snippets, and most of them have been feelings and not memories. The problem is that they’re often conflicting - he’ll remember a bone-deep, jump out of a plane on your word trust, and then he’ll remember a wave of profound anger. He’ll remember a smile that inspired a soaring joy, but then he’ll wake up from dreams he only vaguely remembers with yawning, heavy grief. So he’s been avoiding the man, uncertain still what their relationship was before but quite sure they have the power to hurt each other. 

Janet is extremely unhappy about sending him into the field ‘in his current condition’, but the plan hinges upon Jonas and Daniel being able to find the location of the shaft, and Jonas won’t be able to do any translating of ancient Ancient efficiently by himself, and his physical health is exemplary, so Daniel gets to go. They bring him to the locker room, where he’s somehow not surprised to find his name is still taped to a locker, or that it’s right next to Jack’s. He moves through getting ready on autopilot, his body seemingly remembering more than his mind does, until he happens to glance over out of the corner of his eye as he’s shrugging into his jacket to look at his team leader, and catches a glimpse of a picture hanging on the inside of the door.

It’s accompanied by a deluge of memories - before he can think it through, he blurts out, “That’s your son.”

“Yeah.” Jack shoots him a hard look and keeps getting dressed. 

“Charlie, right?” It’s awful. He has the memory of what happened, of their entire first mission, of another time when Jack O’Neill was uncommunicative and short with him. It feels like a lifetime ago. “He's why I know you. You took that first mission to Abydos because you thought it'd be…suicide.” The thought of Jack suicidal hits him hard and he shuts up, feeling like someone punched him. 

He and Jack...were friends. More than friends. Until they weren’t. Jack is the partner he left behind when he ascended. But...they weren’t exactly partners, not at the time. Jack was...complicated. But the idea of him dead makes Daniel want to scream.

His sudden silence seems to get the colonel’s attention, and he looks over. “Things change.”

Daniel remembers why he Ascended. He remembers the pain they caused each other. He remembers when he decided he couldn’t go on being in a relationship with Jack, and the pain is as fresh as it was the day it happened. It’s terrible cliche to say it’s hard to breathe, but Daniel has to remind himself to do so. He also needs to choke out a response for Jack, who is still looking at him. “Yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, and looks down. 

“You sure you're ready for this?” Jack sits down to lace up his boots, and Daniel takes a deep breath while he’s facing his locker. It’s still coming in waves - he remembers Ba’als compound, and almost losing Jack forever. He remembers  _ knowing _ , as an ascended being, that despite the rocky shores their relationship was on, that Jack loved him. 

“Yeah, well, despite what you say…” Daniel noticed even before he started to remember that Jack talks a big game about this mission, but that he doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would do anything he truly didn’t believe in. “I don't think you'd be doing this if it wasn't worth doing.”

“Well, you obviously don't remember everything,” the man says drily, brushing him off. “You never used to follow my lead.”

“I didn't?” Frowning a little, he questions this; he remembers following Jack’s lead a  _ lot _ . Not blindly, like a good soldier, but certainly in some situations. Perhaps more in personal situations than professional. That thought makes him have to fight against a blush - something must still show in his face because Jack shoots him a strained little smile that’s more a grimace and gets to his feet, heading for the door. 

He can’t let it go at that. 

“Hey, um,” he calls as the colonel’s hand touches the door, and Jack pauses, looking back, his face set in grim lines. Daniel’s heart jumps in his chest - if he’s only remembering a fraction of what was between them, he suddenly can’t imagine being Jack, and sitting around waiting for himself to remember, wondering what will come of it. He can forgive him now wholeheartedly for his standoffishness since they brought him home from Vis Uban, and regrets teasing him about forgetting his name. “I may not remember everything, but…I remember enough.”

He tries to put his heart into it. Jack’s answering smile is much more subtle than before, much quieter, but also more true. “Good,” he nods, and leaves. Daniel feels better about heading into the field under his Jack’s command than when he was mostly a stranger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, we didn't really get any heartfelt reunion between the guys. It's coming, I promise, but this chapter was getting looooooooong so I moved it to its own chapter.


	25. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they kiss and make up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S7E2 ("Homecoming"), and the end of our depressing arc!! The boys get their little talk they need and now we're back off to more one-off episodic bits and pieces. ^^ As always, bits of dialogue drawn directly from the show aren't mine. Enjoy! <3

Everything went to shit pretty quickly. To be fair, it was a terrible plan, it was just the only plan they’d had. Jack hates having Jonas and Daniel on the Goa’uld ship without backup, but he and Sam are needed to fly the X-302 and Teal’c to deal with Yu. But Yu doesn’t show up, and they have no way to retrieve their civilians before Anubis’ ship disappears into hyperspace. He’s left stranded in the X-302, which was barely retrofitted in time for this mission, and certainly can’t go on a hyperspeed pursuit.

He really can’t believe they lost Daniel barely two weeks after getting him back. Thankfully, Sam doesn’t try to engage him in conversation more than just the barest necessary communication to get them home. He catches her several times watching him with a worried expression, but she leaves him to his despairing thoughts. When the Kelownans show up only a few hours after he and Sam return planetside, Jack wonders (not for the first time) about Daniel’s good luck. They have a much better chance of getting their boys back if they can find Anubis’ ship, and it sounds like maybe the Kelownans have. 

The Kelownans are worried about their own skins, mostly. Jack just wants to get his people back. After they are told where they are in the Kelownan compound, he looks to Sam, and she agrees the communicator should work, a hopeful look on her face. She pulls it out of her pocket and hands it to him. Leaving her to make nice with the natives, he turns away.

“Daniel? Daniel, come in. This is O'Neill.” He pauses for a long moment and receives no response. His gut starts to churn. When they’d last made contact, Daniel had told them that Jonas was captured. He knows there’s a good chance Daniel has been captured in these intervening hours as well. Anubis will be far more interested in Daniel than Jonas. Jack’s memory helpfully supplies the images of Daniel’s drawn, anxious face when he’d spoken of Anubis on Abydos, as well as ideas of the horrible things Anubis could do to his archaeologist. He tries one more time, his voice ringing with a clipped and impatient edge. “Daniel?”

“Jack!”

A rush of quelling relief. Whatever is happening, Danny is alive and in possession of his communicator. Hearing Daniel’s strained voice, Sam turns away from the Kelownans and comes to stand beside Jack. “What is your situation?”

“I'm hiding,” somehow, Daniel makes it sound like small talk. The banter is so familiar, he has to fight a grin. “What's yours?”

“Carter and I are on the planet.”

“You're going to have to be a little more specific, Jack. I haven't had time to look out a window lately.” 

In any other situation, he’d be annoyed at their archaeologist's snippiness in the middle of a mission, but now it’s too much of a good sign. Daniel had hinted at remembering things in the locker room, but there hadn’t been time to sit down and unpack what that entailed. But ever since Jack had gotten a little frustrated and callous in the first briefing back that Danny had come to, his partner had been walking on eggshells around him. This sarcasm, however poorly timed, is welcome. “You are hovering over Jonas's homeworld.”

“Why?” comes Daniel’s voice from the communicator, and Jack can just see his face in his mind’s eye - the puzzled little scowl, eyebrows drawn down over his eyes and mouth slightly open.

“I wish I knew.” He glances back at the Kelownans, but they are impatiently waiting for him and Sam to pay attention to them. The fact is, they can’t get onto this ship without these people’s help. And Daniel and Jonas would neither one probably appreciate it if Jack let the Kelownans get blown to bits, despite that they probably deserve it. “Are you in any immediate danger?”

“Depends what you mean by immediate,” comes the impertinent response. 

“Daniel,” he growls warningly, rolling his eyes. Imagine, missing this. His team was delightfully good about the chain of command and military respect while Daniel was gone. 

“I'm fine,” Daniel’s voice is strained, and Jack regrets the growl just a little. He imagines his partner is a little stressed, up there on the enemy spaceship with half his memories and his teammate captured. On cue, Daniel starts talking rapidly. “I found the location of Jonas's cell from the ship's computer. I'm on my way there now. I have just got a couple of problems.”

“Like...what?” Problems is  _ not _ what Jack wants to hear. 

“Well, I'm not sure how to shut off the force-field protecting his cell yet.”

Jack waits for a second, but nothing else is forthcoming. “You said a couple,” he prompts.

“Yeah, actually I'm a little lost at the moment.” There’s a pause, and Jack knows it’s Daniel taking a deep breath on the other end before imparting more bad news. He’s reassuringly predictable. “And, I've only got about three hours left before the Tok'ra isotope wears off and I'm visible to the ship's sensors.”

“So…business as usual then, huh?” Jack sighs and catches Sam smiling even as she’s looking away. 

“I don't know,” Daniel pauses, “is it?”

“Yes.” Medical advice and his own conflicted feelings be damned, Jack should have spent the last two weeks glued to Daniel’s side. He claims he just started to remember in the couple of days leading up to the mission, and that was with no help at all now when they need him at his best. If Jack had helped him remember, he thinks, perhaps he wouldn’t have to hear that nervous uncertainty in his partner’s quiet voice. Still, he tries to instill confidence in him. “We do this kind of thing all the time.”

“Ah, well, good,” Daniel says flippantly, “that's comforting then.” It seems he has as little regard for his own life as he’s ever had. Right then and there, Jack makes himself a promise. When they get home, he’ll sit down with Daniel and hash everything out. Their past, their present, their future...whatever the outcome, it’s cruel to leave Daniel hanging in the unknown like this, just because Jack is afraid his lover won’t take him back; that a year of enforced separation won’t have been enough for Daniel to forgive him for being a complete idiot. He can only hope and pray that Daniel has changed his mind.

But first, they have to get them rescued. 

* * *

Crisis averted. Anubis stymied. Jonas Quinn headed home to Kelowna. Daniel, sitting in his living room, with at least some measure of his memory back. Under the pretense of getting another beer, Jack takes a minute to watch Daniel laughing with Sam and Teal’c. He’d hesitated to accept the team dinner invitation, but the rest of their team had chivvied and cajoled and gently bullied him into it. Now, Jack’s mission is to somehow convince him to stay when Sam and Teal’c head home. 

Turning away from the living room, Jack reaches into the fridge and takes out two bottles. As he’s turning around, though, a bigger, dusty bottle on the counter catches his eye. Daniel doesn’t like beer, so he hasn’t been drinking very much, but maybe a different beverage would tempt him more to loosen his tongue and his inhibitions. Jack puts one of the beers back in the fridge and digs around in a nearby drawer for a corkscrew, uncorking the bottle of wine and then loosely stopping it back up. Taking a couple of wine glasses from the nearby cabinet, he heads back into the living room. 

They turn to look at him, and he holds out the bottle towards Sam first. “Carter?” 

“I’m good, sir,” she shakes her head, smiling, and raises her beer, which still has several drinks at the bottom.    
  
Jack turns to look at Daniel, who is sitting beside Teal’c. His beer is still mostly full on the table in front of them, but he hasn’t taken a drink of it in quite a while. “Daniel?” Jack holds out a glass.   
  
Daniel hesitates, throwing a questioning look at Sam. “Sam just mentioned needing to get going soon, and I don’t want it to go to waste,” he declines quietly. 

“You know Carter just thinks her experiments are more fun than us. The night is young, why don’t you stay?” Jack wheedles, giving the bottle of wine an inviting little swish. “We can play a game of chess or two. I’ll take you back to base later.” Daniel still hesitates, looking from Sam to Teal’c.    
  
“You should stay, Daniel,” Sam says, “I do need to get back to the PCR machine before it times out tonight but I’m fine to drive. You’ve been bored out of your mind stuck in that little room on base for weeks.”

“I will be Samantha Carter’s designated vehicle operator, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c assures Daniel with a slow incline of his head. “You should imbibe of your wine spirits and relax.”

Jack considers sending his teammates gift baskets for backing him up but forces his expression to stay neutral and welcoming as Daniel eyes him nervously. He holds Daniel’s uncertain gaze for a long pause, and then finally Daniel reaches out to take the glass and the bottle from him with a quiet, “Okay. A game of chess sounds nice.”

While Daniel’s busy carefully pouring himself a glass of wine, Jack watches Teal’c and Sam exchange a look and then finds himself on the receiving end of two narrowed stares, clear warnings against hurting their newly rediscovered teammate’s fragile feelings. He puts on his best innocent face and wanders over to lift the chess set off of a shelf above his DVD collection. As he is bringing it back over to the table, Sam finishes her drink and stands up, followed shortly by T. “Thanks for dinner, Sir,” she says, “Goodnight, Daniel. See you guys on Monday.”

“‘Night, Sam, Teal’c,” Daniel smiles gently, saluting them with his wine glass. 

Jack sets the chess set down in front of him. “Why don’t you set this up while I see everyone out?” he proposes to Daniel and then follows the rest of the team to the door. Pulling on his hat while Sam shrugs into her jacket, Teal’c opens the door to allow her to pass first but Sam hesitates, looking back at Jack. “Sir….Jack….,” She has on her ‘I can’t believe I’m going to say this to my commanding officer’ face, but whatever it is, her loyalty to Daniel is strong.   
  
“Spit it out, Carter,” he responds quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Just be gentle with him,” Sam offers after a long pause. “Janet said he probably still doesn’t remember everything, and he could easily choose to not remember.” Teal’c nods along with her words, standing a little straighter in the doorway and frowning forbiddingly. Jack doesn’t need the reminder - Fraiser had given him a twenty-minute lecture on the subject earlier that day; he is more than aware that she thinks part of why Daniel’s not remembering Jack as fast as everyone else is because their relationship was associated with stronger emotions - both the positive and the negative. She hadn’t been shy about telling him all of the times she knew of that Colonel O’Neill had been a jerk to his best friend. 

“I’m not going to kill him and bury him in the backyard,” Jack rolls his eyes. That doesn’t seem to reassure his teammates. He scowls at them for a minute, and then adds, “I’ll be nice. But if he’s remembering things, my shortcomings included, we have to talk about it.” He really, really can’t believe he’s admitting that to her, but what can he do? He needs her to leave so he can get Danny a little drunk before and they can have these conversations. Sam, Teal’c, and Janet think Daniel’s remembering a rocky friendship, and the reality is so much worse. 

That is apparently more reassuring, and Sam smiles at him and walks through the door. Teal’c holds his gaze for a minute longer and then slowly inclines his head before following her out to the car. Jack closes the door behind them and stares at it for a minute before wandering back into the living room. Daniel has set the chessboard up on the small table by the window and he’s staring out into the gathering twilight. On his way over, Jack picks up his beer and also the wine bottle, wanting it closer for refill purposes. 

Settling into the chair opposite Daniel, Jack glances down at the board. Daniel’s set him up with the white pieces, so he obligingly reaches out and moves a pawn. As the piece clicks quietly down onto its new square, Daniel turns towards the table and stares down at the board, but doesn’t make a first move of his own. When the pause stretches uncomfortably long for Jack, he knocks his foot against Daniel’s under the table. “Earth to Daniel.”

Startled blue eyes jerk up to meet his, and Daniel stumbles through, “Um. Sorry. What?”

“Do you remember how to play the game?” Jack flicks his gaze downward to indicate the chessboard.

“Oh. Yeah,” Daniel smiles, just a little crack of sheepish apology that doesn’t linger on his face. “I was just distracted. I actually never forgot a lot of really abstract things, like the rules to games and languages and recipes.” he moves a pawn of his own, and then takes a sip of his wine. “I just didn’t have any memories of doing them, or learning them.”

That sounds like a particularly bizarre form of hell - especially since Jack guesses a lot of what Daniel did remember would have been completely foreign to the people of Vis Uban. He thinks he should be thankful to Oma for dropping their boy in a tribe of friendly people, instead of xenophobic ones….if he wasn’t too busy being pissed off that she’d stolen Daniel’s memories in the first place. 

Maybe she thought they needed to earn him back. 

They play through the first game making small talk about what has been going on around the SGC in the past year. Daniel wants to know all about what Cassie has been up to, and Ferretti, and Fraiser, and Hammond, and his other particular friends. Thankfully, though Jack often tries to play the ‘clueless colonel’, he takes his job as the base’s second in command pretty seriously and has always been good at keeping a finger on the pulse of the men and women under his command, so he has plenty of stories to share. 

Daniel finishes his second glass of wine about the time they finish the second game and is looking a little flushed. He looks down into his empty cup and mumbles, “This is really good.”

In the process of reaching forward to pour more into his glass, Jack pauses, hand freezing in midair, and gives him a long look. “I should hope you think so,” he says matter-of-factly, “since you’re the one who picked it out.” Daniel slowly lowers his glass to the table and glances up at Jack and then over to the bottle. He reaches out after a minute and takes it, looking down at the label and running a finger over it, absently. His eyes are far away, but Jack waits patiently to see what he’ll say. 

“We went to the vineyard with Sam and Teal’c. You knew I wanted to go and meant for it to be a date, but you mentioned it to Sam and couldn’t think of a good reason why they shouldn’t come with us.” It had been such a nice day, even Jack hadn’t been able to stay annoyed at having the extra company. There’s actually a picture on the shelf behind Daniel of the four of them sitting on a sunny patio at the vineyard. “I liked this one so much, you bought a whole case. I remember.”

“Jack,” he starts just as Jack says, “Daniel,”. Their eyes meet again and Jack gives a little gesture for Daniel to go first. The younger man takes a deep breath and looks down, a deep frown etched into the wrinkles between his eyebrows. “I remember a lot. But I don’t remember everything.”

“I know,” Jack replies quietly. “Fraiser said there might be things you never remember. That memory loss is poorly understood even before we add aliens.”

“Did she tell you her theory on why I don’t remember things? About us?” He’s determinedly not looking at Jack, peeling absently along the edges of the bottle label. 

“Yeah, she did.” Jack doesn’t elaborate.

“Does she know? About….us?” The words are barely a whisper, Jack nearly has to lean closer to catch them.

“Not that we’ve ever told her,” he says, “but she’s our doctor as well as a friend and she’s pretty observant.” Daniel’s eyes go a little wide and flick towards the couches where they’d spent the evening with their friends. Sometimes, he really is an open book. Jack shakes his head. “No, nobody knows. It wouldn’t be fair to Carter as an officer. And while I do have my suspicions about what Teal’c thinks, you always said it wasn’t fair to tell Teal’c and not Sam.”

Daniel stares down at the table for a minute, struggling to remember. Jack can see the conflict wash over his face as he stands abruptly, putting the bottle down on the table with a sharp click and walking over to stand by the window, arms wrapped around himself. Putting down his own drink, he stands up slowly and wanders that way, propping himself up with one shoulder on the wall nearby. 

“Hey. It’s okay.” The scathing look that is aimed at him from under heavy eyelashes indicates that Daniel very much disagrees. “It is,” Jack insists. “Nobody is going to get upset if there are things you don’t remember. Least of all me. And I can see how much it’s frustrating you, so in this case, we’re gonna ignore Doc’s recommendations. If you need me to tell you about something or someone, just ask.”

“You can’t tell me you’re just okay that I can’t remember things like...like…,” he trails off for a minute, clearly trying to come up with something of great enough importance. “Like the first time we kissed! Or...or,” Daniel has to unwrap his arms from his middle to gesture vigorously - Jack’s glad his wine glass is still sitting on the table, or they’d be cleaning red wine out of the carpet now. “Or what kind of..of sex we have! I don’t even know how we got together!” 

“I am telling you that,” he keeps his tone quiet and even, and doesn’t move. Everything that Daniel says gives him hope, but he wants his partner to choose to come to him, so he doesn’t move. “I wish you could remember those things, because you want to, but if we have to make new memories, I’m still in.”

The arms creep back around Daniel’s chest; that’s all the warning Jack has. “What about the next time I make you mad? I remember enough. I d-don’t think I could do that again.”

It doesn’t matter that he was expecting the question. He’d thought he’d prepared for it, all of those sleepless nights of ‘what ifs’ while Daniel was ascended, and then the promises he’d made to himself since Vis Uban, especially while they all waited and worried about their newly recovered and once again missing teammate on Anubis’ ship. But for all of his mental rehearsal, the question posed in Daniel’s quiet and resigned voice has an impact a little like being shot. 

To hell with being hands-off. 

He reaches out, putting a hand on each of Daniel’s shoulders and holding them there while he turns Daniel to face him. “I’m just a man, Daniel. You’re just a mortal too. I’m going to get frustrated. I’m going to get mad. Knowing me, I’m probably going to be an asshole. We’re going to argue, and you’re going to have to explain things to me in dumb colonel terms occasionally.” He has his partner’s complete attention, those bright eyes peering up at him from under eyebrows that are deeply wrinkled in a frown of concentration. “But, look, whatever happens, we’re going to work it out.”

There’s no light of belief and understanding in Daniel’s face, and so Jack knows he has to dig deep. He has to give voice to the feelings that he always thought Daniel trusted, even if he didn’t speak them very often. He knows that was stupid - it was  _ fatalistically  _ stupid to think his linguist’s love language wasn’t  _ words _ , that he didn’t  _ need _ to hear Jack say them, it was stupid to the point where he let this man believe he didn’t  _ have _ the feelings that Daniel did. Jack knows better now - it won’t be any easier, but he will do whatever it takes.

“I had to live without you for a year, Danny. I know  _ I _ can’t do  _ that _ again. So I know we’ll work it out because I simply won’t allow anything else, do you understand me? You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s just how it’s always going to be.” His fingers have tightened on Daniel’s shoulders, and he forces them to relax. Slowly, still more than aware that Daniel is nearly vibrating with tension under his hands and the thoughts are visibly going a mile a minute behind his wide eyes, he slides his hands up from the other man’s shoulders to cradle the back of his head, thumb brushing across the archaeologist’s jaw. “Daniel Jackson, I love you. I trust you. And I’ll prove it to you, and keep proving it to you until you tell me to stop.”

Danny’s mouth opens in a silent little ‘oh’ of surprise, and Jack watches his expression change. His face relaxes, years of wrinkles disappearing as the skin smooths out. His eyes go unfocused for a moment as he’s remembering something, and then when as they refocus on Jack, they soften. He leans his head into Jack’s hands and his arms peel away from his middle, one hand coming up to lightly wrap around Jack’s wrist. There’s true, solid recognition in his expression for the first time since he has been back, and something around Jack’s heart loosens, the rush of relief leaving him feeling unmoored and at sea. This, more than the shell of a man they had brought home, is his partner. 

“Hi,” he murmurs. There isn’t even room to feel self-conscious about the soft affection he can hear in his own voice. Some other day, in some other circumstances, he can be worried about maintaining his taciturn reputation. “There you are.”

“Hi,” Daniel responds, just as softly. “Jack…” The words he doesn’t say, but are clouds in his eyes, have an almost physical presence between them. 

“What, Danny?” Jack brushes his thumb across Daniel’s cheek again, hoping his firm, warm grip is reassuring. The other man takes a deep breath and lets it out a little unevenly before he speaks again, gaze steady on Jack’s.

“I never stopped loving you, Jack. I just….thought you’d stopped loving me.” Wordless, Jack shakes his head.  _ Never _ . He’d been a total jerk, and more than a little obtuse, but  _ never  _ that. But he doesn’t interrupt, because he can sense that Danny’s not done. “I’m sorry about ascending. It was running away. I just couldn’t...I couldn’t bear the idea that we weren’t even friends anymore.” At that, Jack opens his mouth to protest, but Daniel shakes his head. “Hear me out? I just need you to know that I need you to tell me more often, okay? In case I forget.”

“I can do that,” Jack promises, “I can do that. I’m so damn sorry too, Danny. I pushed you away because I’m a coward, but I know better now. I know that not having you is worse than my fear of losing you.” They stare at each other a moment, and then Jack squeezes the back of Daniel’s neck gently. “Right. No more apologies. We go forward from here.”

“Okay, Jack.”

“Okay,” he nods, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. 

“Jack?”

The query brings his eyes back down to his partner, and he raises his eyebrows. There’s something in his boy’s expression, something he hasn’t seen in a long time. A laugh, maybe; a hint of mischief. “ _ Da- _ niel?” he drawls the question, curious.

“Will you kiss me now?”

Oh. Yes. Jack leans in without hesitation to do just that.


	26. Fragile Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daniel finds himself dealing with the pint-sized version of his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S7S3 ("Fragile Balance"). As always, any dialogue directly from the show isn't mine.
> 
> And to think, I was going to skip this episode. But the words just kept coming. *hides*

He spends the night at his own apartment, one night, because he has stuff to do. Work stuff, that would just drive Jack up the wall. Plus, he does still need to maintain the idea that he  _ has _ a residence, where he lives. The neighbors buy the travel excuse a lot, but if you combine actual off-world time with the number of nights he spends at Jack’s, well, they both realized he needs to spend a few more nights at his place. It doesn’t help, either, that the minefield of what he remembers and what he doesn’t is still exhausting. They both need downtime.

But when he arrives on base, everyone is all worked up about a security breach. Thinking that is where his team will be, Daniel wanders in that general direction. He can see the back of Sam’s spiky blonde hair beside the general, and beyond them, there’s a boy. A teenager, really, but a young one. Thinking of all the hoops he still has to jump through to get on and off base, this many years later, he stops next to Sam and murmurs, “ _ This _ is the security breach?”

The kid is holding his pants up with one hand. He looks like he’s playing dress-up in his dad’s clothes. “Daniel!” he says, and Daniel looks up, startled. “Will you tell them who I am? Please?”

“Okay.” He looks him up and down, but he doesn’t know very many teenagers. Cassie. Peripherally, Hammond’s grandkids and Sam’s nieces and nephews. Ry’ac. Not this kid. “Love to. Who are you?”

If looks could kill, the one he gets from the young man would have at least gravely injured. Daniel will give him 8 out of 10, for effort. He’s seen better, but the kid is young.

“This young man claims he's Colonel O'Neill,” the General solemnly tells him, and Daniel fights to keep his expression neutral, eyes flicking over to the teen and back.

“It's a joke, right?” He’d left his partner in the parking lot here, yesterday, at the base, a full-grown man. They’ve been apart less than twelve hours. Sam gives him a grimacing smile and shakes her head. “What's going on?” he asks, hoping they have some idea. Weird for a kid to impersonate an Air Force Colonel, much less use it to infiltrate a base that’s supposed to be secret, and a boring science cover story above that.   
  


“Daniel!” The kid growls, and wow, still only maybe an 8.5 out of 10, but he does sound like he could be taking lessons from the man he claims to be. It’s hard to be intimidating when you’re still shy of a few growth spurts and, well,  _ pimply _ , but he’s got the tone of voice and the angry eyes down pat.

“Sounds like him,” Daniel murmurs to Sam, staring over at the kid. He wants this to be a joke, but, there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach. “At least the loud, grating parts.”

“Okay. You want proof?” The kid snaps and looks to Sam first. “Carter, you once carried a Tok'ra named Jolinar, who gave her life to save you.” That’s...startlingly accurate, and Daniel can feel Sam go a little tense beside him. But the boy’s not done. “Daniel, until recently, you were an ascended being. Ya broke the rules, ya got yourself kicked outta the Oma Desala fan club and had your memory erased.” 

It’s not what he says - because that’s all very true. What hurts is the tone he declares it in - with the exception of one painful and notable briefing Daniel had invited himself to, Jack has been very careful about how he talks about the circumstances under which Daniel had ascended and then about a year later, descended. The scornful tone he’s adopted now belittles the whole thing, and it’s an uncomfortable surprise. Daniel drops his eyes, staring down at the ground as Teal’c strides in past the group at the door to get right into the kid’s - Jack’s? - space. 

“And you and Bra'tac both just lost your snakes in a Goa'uld ambush,” the boy turns his vitriolic words on Teal’c without pause. “Had your tretonin yet this morning?” If Daniel had any doubt this was Jack, somehow, the way he faces off against Teal’c erases it. 

“How could this child possess such knowledge?” Teal’c addresses the question back to Sam and Daniel, and the General, but all he gets is a stunned silence in response. 

“Because—it's—me!” Pushing through his hurt feelings, Daniel realizes as the kid hikes his overlarge pants up yet again that this is classic Jack O’Neill response to fear and confusion - lash out. He makes a mental note to make sure that they find Jack something to wear that fits him, sooner rather than later. If they can’t do anything right away about the fact that he’s apparently regressed some thirty or forty-odd years, they can at least mitigate the compounding issues that are going to make him terribly disagreeable. 

They leave Jack in the holding room, another move bound to piss him off, but Daniel knows there’s not going to be any talking the General out of it at this point, and wander out into the hallway. The still-adult members of SG-1 trail behind their boss until he seems to be sure they’re out of earshot, and then he turns back to them. “Would anyone care to speculate how a boy could be aware of our most classified information?” 

He doesn’t sound pleased. Daniel looks over to let Sam field the question first.

“Well, Sir, it could be him,” she asserts, sounding uncertain but more convinced that when Daniel first walked into the holding cell.

“There is a physical resemblance,” he agrees quickly, backing her up. It had taken a minute for him to get past how utterly  _ young _ he looked, but before they left the room, Daniel had to admit that the boy in that room looks just like the few pictures he’s seen of young Jack.

“But he can't be more than fifteen years old,” the General protests. Daniel thinks he’s being generous - his guess was 12 or 13. Not, of course, that Jack would admit to a younger age if they were to ask him. “Are you saying Colonel O'Neill has, somehow, regressed more than 30 years overnight?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Daniel says with a sigh.

“Name but one,” Teal’c grumbles from behind them, clearly still more perturbed by the situation than Daniel or Sam. 

“Well,” Daniel can’t help himself. It is a stupid question. He starts listing the weirdest things that have happened, specifically, to Jack. “There was the time he got really old, the time he became a caveman, the time we all swapped bodies…” Sam is looking at him like she can’t quite believe he’s being this snarky in front of the General, for whom he generally tries to tone it down, but he blames it all on the shock. 

The General holds up a hand, stopping him in his litany. “Why don't we move on to the testing portion of this exercise?”

* * *

They run the tests. Daniel’s pretty sure that Janet runs them three times, for the time it takes. In the end, though, she confirms what he already knew at a gut level - whatever is going on, there is  _ a _ Jack O’Neill in their holding cells. A very young, very frustrated Jack O’Neill. Sam is flippant when the General suggests they make him comfortable while they try to figure out what is going on, but Daniel’s mind is already far away on the best way to keep the unhappy-Jack casualties to a minimum. 

He starts with the clothes. Leaving the rest of them to hash out more details about the further tests they want to run, he goes looking for something else for Jack to wear. It’s easy enough to find a pair of BDU pants that will fit better (he’ll conveniently forget to tell Jack he’s raided the women’s sizes) and with a belt, they won’t fall down. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabs one of Jack’s own uniform shirts; it’ll be too big, but he kind of hopes wearing the SG-1 patch will bring Jack some sort of comfort. Daniel knows that still being an obvious part of the team even when things are going wrong has always comforted him in the past, so he wants to give that to Jack.    
  
A shirt is easy, but there’s not much he can do about shoes right away. He gathers up his findings and treks back to the holding cell, nodding at the marine at the door to let him in. Jack’s still sitting on the bed, scowling, and the expression doesn’t lighten when he looks up at Daniel. “Nice of you to back me up,” he says sarcastically. 

“Sorry,” Daniel murmurs reflexively, taking a breath. “It’s, um, a lot, you have to see that. You sound like yourself, and you act like yourself, but the last time I saw you, you were an adult. Now you’re like thirteen.” Giving a little shrug, he steps forward away from the door, still trying hard not to stare at his partner like this. “It’s a little weird.” 

“That’s really an astute observation, Daniel,” Jack drawls. Daniel’s just glad, in that tone, that it’s still ‘Daniel’ and not ‘bookboy’ or something equally degrading. If he ever needed confirmation that he and Jack wouldn’t have been friends if they’d met any earlier, he thinks he has it. “If it’s so weird for you, how do you think it feels for me?!”

“I brought you some clothes that should fit better,” he murmurs, setting the pile down on the end of the bed. “The General said you could move about the base as long as you’re with one of the marines or one of SG-1. The guy outside the door can take you to lunch, I’m sure you’re hungry.”   
  
He meant to take Jack himself, but right at this moment he is too overwhelmed. He’s gotten used to a gentler, more careful Jack in the past couple of weeks, and he wasn’t ready for the abrasive attitude that teen Jack seems to be channeling. He had no idea, until this moment, how much he was still leaning on his lover to ease him through the stress of transitioning back to a fully functioning member of both Earth and the SGC until that support was so rudely yanked out from under him. 

Daniel’s hand is knocking on the inside of the door to be let out before he consciously decides to move. “Wait,” he hears a sigh behind him and then a muffled curse, and then the sound of someone stumbling. Daniel knows without looking that Jack just tripped over his too-big jeans. “Wait! Dammit,” there’s the faint sound of cloth being yanked, but thankfully the marine swings the door open then and Daniel is able to slip out of it, Jack’s yell echoing behind him as he flees. “Daniel!”

* * *

Retreating to his own office, he successfully avoids Jack for a few hours. It’s late afternoon when Sam wanders in, walking up beside him and waiting politely for him to finish the page he’s translating. It’s a nice change, he tries to tell himself, to have someone wait for him while keeping their hands to themselves instead of picking up the artifacts on the shelves at random. Marking his place, he looks up inquisitively. 

“Teal’c took...the colonel to the gym to work off some of his frustration,” she says. Daniel notes the stumble over what to call their commander, the little grimace that pulls at the corner of her mouth, and wonders if Jack’s sour attitude had something to do with it. “But when they’re done, Janet wants us to go to his house, see what there is to see, take some samples. The General wants us to look for any signs that this isn’t Colonel O’Neill and that he may have been taken.”

“Do you really need me?” Daniel asks but backtracks quickly at the look Sam gives him. “I mean, I don’t know anything about searching a house and I’m sure you can get the samples…”

“Daniel, you know Jack’s house the best. You’ve spent the most time there. You’d be the most likely to notice if something is off.”   
  
She has him there, and he knows it. He nods reluctantly. “Yeah. Okay.”

Sam reaches out, lays a hand over his, a slight frown on her face now. “Is everything alright?”

Of all the things he trusts Sam with, his personal issues with Jack have never been one of them. It wouldn’t be fair to her - Jack is her commanding officer, and however she may feel about his actions on a personal level, she still has to follow his orders in the field. Daniel has never wanted to be the reason she feels like she can’t do that. It’s bad enough when she witnesses one of their arguments, he refuses to discuss any of it with her even if she asks. So he forces a little smile and says, “I’m fine. Jack was a little abrasive earlier, but he’s just under a lot of stress. I’m sure he’s already forgotten about it.”

She doesn’t quite believe him, but given the way she tilts her head and works her jaw for a minute, she clearly also still has something to say. After a minute she huffs out a breath. “Good. Because the General also agreed to let Jack leave the base for the night, but only if he went with one of us. Teal’c and I thought he could spend the night with you.”

It only makes sense. Teal’c doesn’t have a place off-base, and it would be weird for Sam to take a teenage boy who is also her commanding officer home. But they all know Jack and Daniel frequently spend the night at each other’s places, so why wouldn’t Jack stay with Daniel? Daniel’s not even sure, himself, why he’s hesitating. One harsh comment doesn’t mean anything, Jack’s just having a rough day. So he smiles again and agrees. 

Searching Jack’s house is exactly as awkward as he expected. Jack hates every minute of them touching his stuff and prying into his life. Daniel juggles trying to pretend he isn’t  _ as _ familiar with Jack’s house as he is with trying to stay a step ahead of everyone else to make sure he and Jack hadn’t left any incriminating evidence anywhere of their...intimate relationship. Generally, they are good about keeping it low-profile, but things that wouldn’t tip off strangers searching the house (the NID are always a concern) might still give Teal’c and Sam pause, especially as they move into Jack’s bedroom. Daniel’s stuff lying around in the kitchen and the living room is funny, a quirk of Daniel just forgetting to take his stuff when he visits. Daniel’s stuff in the bedroom, instead of the guest room, might raise eyebrows. 

He does get in a little revenge for earlier, a little teasing, by choosing to rifle through Jack’s underwear drawer. A little sleight of hand, he’s actually burying one of his books he just picked up off the nightstand, but it gets a rise out of Jack at that’s momentarily amusing. Jack doesn’t seem to have noticed what Daniel’s doing or even considered that it needed to be done, which speaks to Janet’s theory that he might be more mentally 15 than 45, even if he has all of his memories. 

His momentary pleasure in baiting Jack vanishes when he hears his partner’s voice go faint and disoriented behind him instead of indignant. He comes to Jack’s side immediately, as surprised as everyone else to hear Jack blame the Asgard for their current situation. Daniel wants to hear the full story, but he also wants the team out of Jack’s bedroom. “Why don’t we go sit down, and you can tell us what you just remembered?”

Tactfully, he steers them all back to the kitchen. Jack sits down in his usual chair, and Teal’c settles across from him. Daniel starts to get glasses out of the cabinet to serve drinks as a distraction, but Sam stops him. “Daniel, I don’t think any of us should eat or drink here until we get those test results back.” When he acquiesces, turning to lean against the counter, she turns to Jack. “What did you remember, Sir?”

“Not much,” the kid says, tapping his fingers irritably on the table. “Just a bright light above me, like you see in medical TV shows, and then some glowy green lights. And in the middle of it, one of their pointy gray Asgard faces.” He seems to consider and then adds, “Not Thor though. Someone else.”

Daniel doesn’t believe that Jack would know that, but his lover has spent more time with the Asgard than anyone else, so he says nothing, just frowns over at Sam. “It doesn’t make sense. The Asgard are our allies.”

“Well maybe this one isn’t,” Jack snaps, glaring at Daniel, who throws his hands up in the air. Teal’c says nothing but does raise one judgemental eyebrow at their little scene. Sam’s already got her phone out.

“I’m calling the General. We’re supposed to go home and report in tomorrow, but this might change that.”

Jack’s head makes an audible thump as he drops it to the table and groans out loud. Daniel can’t help himself; he lays a comforting hand on the kid’s shoulder, half expecting Jack to shrug it off, and is inexplicably satisfied when he doesn’t. The three men in the room are all silent while they listen to Sam’s side of a conversation with the General, and then with Janet. When she finally hangs up a tense ten minutes later, she glances at Daniel and then addresses Jack.   
  
“The General thinks we should all get some rest and reconvene tomorrow as planned, unless you remember something else of vital and timely importance,” Daniel is tempted to ask her to define that, but decides that if between he and Jack they can’t figure it out, well, that’s a problem for later. “Janet wants you guys to monitor his temperature and heart rate all night, and for you to come back immediately if anything changes from normal.”

A part of Daniel was hoping they’d nix the little sleepover that had been planned for him, but apparently, it is not meant to be. He takes a deep breath and squeezes Jack’s shoulder once, reassuring both of them, and gives Sam a tiny little grin. “Well, in that case, it’s almost dinner time. I guess Jack and I should head out since we can’t eat anything here. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.” 

They go back out to the cars, locking Jack’s place up behind them, and Sam and Teal’c get into Sam’s car and turn out of the driveway towards the base. Jack and Daniel look at each other over the top of Daniel’s old Jeepster, neither moving immediately to get in. The teenager shoves his hands in his pockets and gives the vehicle a look that Daniel thinks would melt the paint off of a less indestructible object. “Can’t we take my truck?” he whines, “I hate this thing.” He had, in fact, chosen to ride with Sam on the way over, leaving Teal’c to squeeze himself into Daniel’s passenger seat. Thank God he’d had enough sense not to try to drive himself to the mountain that morning, and the truck was still sitting in the driveway. Or possibly, Daniel supposes, he might have tried to drive it but in his current state, he probably couldn’t reach the pedals. 

“No. I’m not driving your monster truck,” Daniel says, opening his door. “Get in,” he adds, doing so himself. He steps down on the clutch and starts the car, ignoring the glare from the kid outside the passenger side window. He fiddles with the radio for a minute, until finally Jack snatches the door open and drops into the seat, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough that Daniel winces. 

“I should have put this thing in the freaking dump while I had the chance,” Jack mutters, with a kick to the bottom of his seat for good measure. Daniel takes a deep breath and backs out onto the road, turning towards his apartment. Choosing not to respond to the all-too-familiar argument about his choice of transportation, he changes the subject. 

“What do you want for dinner?”

The silence stretches out for long enough that Daniel takes his eyes off the road, risking Jack’s wrath for that, to take a quick look at his partner’s face. He looks deep in thought, his face screwed up into a little glower that usually means he’s arguing internally. Turning his attention back to driving, Daniel decides to let him stew. If nothing else, they can order takeout from the apartment.

“Can we just…” Jack hesitates, and then finishes quietly, “Do you have anything homemade leftover?”

It’s sweet enough that Jack wants his cooking to melt a little bit of Daniel’s irritation over the car issue as well as the hurt feelings from earlier, but he knows if he acknowledges that, Jack will probably clam right back up. “There’s lots of options in the freezer,” he settles on saying. They’re quiet the rest of the short drive, and silent in the elevator on the way up. Thankfully there are no neighbors out and about in the halls, so no need to make up an explanation for why Daniel has a teenage boy with him. 

After a quick rummage through the depths of the freezer, they settle on chili. Dinner is still a quiet affair, and Daniel is happy to let Jack retreat to the living room and whatever game he can find on TV while he washes the dishes and then digs spare sheets, blankets, and a pillow out of storage. Walking back into the living room, he hesitates and then lays the bedding at one end of the couch. “Here’s, um, some blankets and stuff,” he offers when the kid looks up. “I’ll leave a clean towel in the bathroom, too.”

For a moment Jack looks confused, and then his expression flickers rapidly through mad, sad, and resigned before turning back into the scowl that might as well be a sign that says ‘leave me alone’. The teenager nods once and turns back to the television. Daniel’s throat is tight because he  _ understands _ ; he and Jack haven’t slept apart in the same house since he descended. But for all intents and purposes, Jack is a fifteen-year-old - if they’re being generous. They can’t share a bed. 

“Okay. I’ll be in my room if-if you need anything,” Daniel murmurs. He only gets a little half-hearted shrug from Jack, so after a moment he sighs and retreats. With the familiar sound of Jack’s hockey game as background noise, he settles at his home desk for a while and works on some backlog translations, before taking a new novel to his bed.

A shout wakes him, half-muffled but clearly agitated. As he tries to swing out of the bed he pushes the novel off the edge of the mattress onto his foot and he swears at it, hopping on one foot for a minute as he blearily makes his way out to the living room, just as Jack gives another wordless cry, moonlight streaming in the patio windows illuminating him where he’s thrashing on the couch. 

“Jack,” Daniel calls from across the room, but the boy doesn’t seem to hear him. He crosses the room quickly and gives the teen’s shoulder a gentle shake, repeating himself more forcefully. “JACK.” 

“No!” Under his touch the kid shoots upwards, eyes wild as he pushes Daniel’s hand off his shoulder and shoves him away, looking panicked as his eyes flit around the darkened room. “What’s going on? Where am I?” He’s shivering, despite being fully clothed in a pair of Daniel’s sweats and a fleece sweater that is way too big on him.

Daniel eases himself down onto the coffee table, hands held out in an obvious gesture of peace. “Jack, it’s Daniel,” he soothes. “You’re at my apartment, remember? Because you’ve been...deaged and we haven’t cleared your house yet.” 

It takes a minute, but Jack seems to settle, eyes fixed on Daniel. His voice is hoarse when he mutters, “Yeah, I remember,” and Daniel wonders how many times he’d cried out before his unrest woke both of them. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” Daniel posits, but Jack shakes his head. “Did...did you remember more?” Jack says nothing, eyes downcast, but his silence is answer enough. Daniel lets out a breath he’s been holding and leans forward a little. “Can you tell me about it?”

“I couldn’t move,” Jack mumbles. “I was, like, laying down but not touching anything, kind of floating. And there was still a light above me, like in the dentist’s chair. There was an Asgard leaning over me, talking. I don’t remember what he said.” The kid fidgets a little, not looking up. Hesitantly, Daniel reaches out and puts his hand on the boy’s knee, and that seems to convince him to go on. “There were these green orbs, like, flying around. And I was cold.”

Overall, not a particularly scary story, at first take. But Daniel knows that probably being unable to move was what had frightened Jack into crying out. They sit silently for another long moment, and then Daniel squeezes the knee below his hand and stands up. “Get up, move around, convince your brain you aren’t paralyzed. We’ll take a walk if you need to.”

Jack raises an eyebrow, glancing out the window where it’s pitch-black, just as the clock on the shelf in the corner sings out that it’s 3:30 in the morning. The expression looks ridiculous on a fourteen-year-old, but it’s so Jack. Daniel smiles. “We’ll do what we have to do,” he reassures and wanders into the kitchen. Halfway through getting out the ingredients to make hot cocoa, he finally hears Jack huff and stand up. He busies himself with making the comforting drink, pretending to ignore Jack, but he can hear that the teenager goes into the bathroom and then wanders out onto the balcony. 

He hasn’t come back in when Daniel pours the cocoa into two mugs. He shrugs into his jacket, grabs another for Jack, and takes the mugs outside. The night air has a solid bite to it, so he holds out the jacket first, waiting until the kid grudgingly shrugs into it before handing over the mug. The view is great - Colorado Springs might not be New York or Cairo, but his balcony overlooks the lights of the downtown area. It was one of the main things that drew Daniel to this apartment - and he makes a mental note to thank grown-up Jack for making sure it was here for him this time when he came back. Telling little Jack just doesn’t seem right. 

Jack is the one, for once, to break the silence. “I don’t want to be stuck like this,” he grinds out, gripping the mug with white-knuckled fingers. 

“You won’t be,” he says as firmly as he can. “Sam and Janet will figure it out.”

Tapping his fingers on the railing, Jack huffs, clearly still unsettled. Half turning towards Daniel, he mumbles under his breath, “Can I sleep with you?”

“W-what?” Daniel sputters, jerking back. “Jack...I don’t think...y-you’re…”

“Oh for crying out loud!” Jack snaps, rolling his eyes. “Not like that! God, Daniel. I just...I just don’t want to be alone.”

“Um,” Daniel knows he’s flushed bright red, but he thinks about all the nightmares he and Jack both have anyway, and he gives in. “Sure. Okay.”

* * *

In the morning, they gravitate around each other as they get ready. Daniel’s never a morning person, and apparently, little Jack isn’t either. Their late-night interlude probably hadn’t helped. He skips trying to make breakfast, opting to take their chances at the commissary. In no time at all, they’ve moved up to the briefing room to update the General on the things Jack has remembered. 

It goes relatively well; everyone is tense, but with no answers, that’s to be expected. Daniel is so focused on his thoughts already whirling about researching alien abduction stories, what he knows, and where to start finding what he doesn’t, he misses the way Jack reacts to being told that Sam’s going to lead the F-302 briefing the colonel has been looking forward to. 

That is until he and Teal’c are about to walk up the driveway to interview one of the abduction victims and Daniel’s phone rings. He looks at the display and frowns when he sees that it’s Jack. He taps Teal’c’s arm, and the bigger man pauses obligingly while Daniel turns back towards his car and flips open his phone. “Jack?”

“This is freaking stupid!” Jack’s voice comes snarling down the line. 

“Uh,” Daniel, blinking, has to reorient himself to even have this conversation. “What are we talking about, exactly?”

“Hammond!” Jack growls, which doesn’t exactly clear anything up. Daniel makes a questioning noise. “He says I have to let Carter give the F-302 briefing since I’m... _ like this _ .”

Valiantly, he resists the urge to insist that Jack clarify that statement. Instead, he ventures, “Uh, well, she’s qualified to talk about it, isn’t she?”

“That’s not the point!” Grown-up Jack’s voice definitely doesn’t reach that octave. Daniel winces, and by the way Teal’c tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, he thinks the Jaffa probably heard Jack as well. “It’s my briefing! I have the most experience flying it, I’ve been preparing for this. If they’re going to work at the SGC, my... _ apparent age _ shouldn’t faze them. I-I just….it’s not  _ fair _ .”

“Jack,” As a member of the military, he would probably be obligated to give some dumb speech about how ‘orders are orders’ or whatever. He’s sure that one of the lectures Jack has given  _ him _ would work. As a civilian...he finds himself way more invested in what will make Jack happy. His partner’s life sucks enough right now. Sure, Jack sounds a little more like a teenager right now than an Air Force Colonel, but Daniel has a feeling he’ll still engage with the young pilots better than Sam, who will want to tell them all about why it works, not how to fly it in combat. “If you feel that strongly about it, maybe you should just go, y’know, help Sam. The General didn’t, uh, say you couldn’t help her, right?”

Teal’c looks amused. Jack’s silence, on the other hand, indicates he might be less than impressed. Daniel’s not sure how a teenager’s judgment can be this nerve-wracking, but just as he’s about to take it all back, the kid pipes up, and it’s in a tone of appreciation. “No. Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, Danny. Oh, crap, is that the time? I gotta go, bye!” 

The line goes dead, but Daniel feels practically buoyant. They’re going to get grown-up Jack back, of course they are, but Daniel still feels really good about being able to know what Jack needs, in any form. He’ll start thinking of ways to smooth things over with the General...later.

* * *

They settle into a surreal but comfortable routine over the next couple of days. Jack spends his days at the base, either doing who knows what teenage things in his base quarters or trying to stay on top of what duties he can while he looks and sounds like a fifteen-year-old. Daniel and Teal’c jet all over the country interviewing people who claim to have had experiences like Jack’s, while Sam helps Janet attack the problem from a science angle. At night, Jack goes home with Daniel. He finds that little Jack is pretty good company, even if it’s nothing like it was before. The second night he wakes up on the couch from even worse nightmares, and from that point on, Daniel gives up, and they just share the bed.

The news that little Jack is dying makes him nauseous, but he is trying hard to keep his anxiety under wraps because that’s the last thing Jack needs. Daniel wasn’t even able to tell Jack the news - he pawned that off on Sam and Janet and hid in his office for a while. He succeeds in keeping an outwardly calm demeanor, though, until Jack disappears. He wasn’t any keener on putting Jack in stasis than Jack was, but he really thought that the older (younger?) man would do it to give them more time. Their mistake, he supposes, was forgetting that Jack wasn’t exactly thinking like an adult all the time right now. 

Even after Selmak and Janet declare that little Jack  _ isn’t _ the real grown-up Jack, Daniel is stuck between being ecstatic that his Jack is out there somewhere, presumably mostly fine, and still worried about little Jack. Sam had dubbed him ‘duplicate O’Neill’ and he has been careful to use that phrasing out loud, but it’s too impersonal. Daniel had formed a connection with his partner’s young doppelganger, and he doesn’t want him out there dealing with any of this alone. 

It takes little Jack making some truly questionable choices - trying to get a military officer who supposedly knows his uncle to buy him beer, mainly - for them to get a lead on his location and bring him home. Daniel knows he should be mad, the General certainly is, but mostly he’s just happy to have Jack back in their custody. He’s not a huge fan of the little-Jack-as-bait plan, either, but it’s the only one they’ve got that means catching the person who did this, and he decides that little Jack is enough grown-up Jack to make his own choices about risk. And if they don’t catch the Asgard responsible, Janet has pretty much guaranteed little Jack will die. 

Daniel doesn’t want that.

He can’t grab Jack and pull him into a hug when he reappears in his bedroom. It sucks, but they're mostly used to it. They only get the occasional show of outward affection. The rest of the time, they have to pretend to be just good friends. He and Jack only usually get an exchange of looks; but since Jack hasn’t been awake and worrying for the past seven days, Daniel doesn’t even get that. He’ll have to wait on his homecoming later, in private, and be content now with just  _ knowing _ he has his Jack back. 

Jack, of course, bonds with little Jack right away. Daniel is reminded of how well Jack gets along with kids in general, even if you put aside the fact that little Jack is just like grown-up Jack. Daniel was worried about what they were going to do for little Jack since the Tok’ra didn’t have a solution and neither did Loki, but apparently, Loki is more than just a morally questionable scientist, he’s also just an untalented one. For Jack, Thor agrees to repair little Jack’s DNA. Jack pretends to have to think about it, and he probably is thinking about the earful he’ll get from Hammond for it, but Daniel knows better. Jack would never have let the kid die.

What they’re going to  _ do _ with a second Jack O’Neill is, for now, a problem for later. 

* * *

Big Jack and little Jack have been cohabitating in Jack’s house for about a week while the Air Force decides what can and can’t be done to, by, and for Jack’s clone. Daniel’s been there most of the time as well - there was no reason not to be since little Jack already knows all about their relationship. Still, it’s awkward having a teenager in the house, even if he is ‘in the know’, so sleeping has been  _ all _ they’ve been doing in Jack’s bedroom. But this is their last night as pseudo-parents of a teenager; little Jack has convinced the Air Force to let him fly solo from tomorrow onwards. Daniel, two weeks now into little Jack experiences, isn’t as excited about it as the Jacks. Little Jack still doesn’t even always sleep through the night yet without nightmares, and he’s not as stoic about them as grown-up Jack. Letting him loose without a real adult seems unwise.

“I still can’t believe you told Mini-me to go against Hammond’s orders,” Jack complains, breaking Daniel out of his contemplation. The archaeologist rolls towards his lover, propping himself up on one arm to look down. He’s lit only in the soft light from the lamp on his nightstand, and it’s a good look.

“I didn’t,” he protests. “I just said you - he - could go help her. The fact that he completely commandeered the briefing, that’s your influence.”

Jack narrows his eyes. “And you thought that was a safe suggestion for a teenage me?”

Daniel, still hopelessly glad to have him home, just gives him a little grin. Jack chuffs out a laugh and grabs him, yanking him back down to the mattress. “C’mere, you menace.”

* * *

The Jacks don’t want him to go when his Jack drops off little Jack, but the whole thing just doesn’t seem finished to him. Jack’s dropping him off at a local high school, and then he’s going home alone to an apartment the Air Force set up for him within walking distance after school. Little Jack had lobbied hard for a move somewhere further away, but the military had insisted he be within easy check-in distance of the base. Jack had seemed ambivalent about the whole situation, but Daniel had secretly campaigned to keep the kid close by, and he’s glad there’s going to be someone checking up on him, even if it won’t be Jack or Daniel.

His Jack emerges into the kitchen, shrugging into his jacket, and little Jack rushes past and out the front door, backpack swung over his shoulders. “I’ll see you at the Mountain,” Jack greets him absently, but stops when Daniel steps in front of him with a mug of coffee. 

“Give us a minute?” Daniel requests, and Jack shrugs his acquiescence. 

The kid is sitting on the front step, the door still open behind him, looking impatient for the colonel to hurry up. Daniel sits down beside him, elbows on his knees. “You sure about all this?” he asks quietly. “I know it’s weird, a little, with you and Jack, a-and even you and me, but we could make it work.”

Little Jack gives him a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding me look that is patently Big Jack in its unspoken complexity. “I’m sure.”

Daniel laughs a little and sighs, “Yeah.” 

“Look, though,” the teenager is staring down at his shoes, only sneaking a glance over at Daniel before looking out at the street. “Uh, thanks. I mean, you were great. Really. I know you...didn’t have to be. It could have been real weird.”

As far as Daniel’s concerned, it was ‘real weird’, but he still couldn’t have ever abandoned Jack in any incarnation. “You matter, too,” he insists. “And I know they’ve got someone lined up to keep an eye on you for a while, but if you ever need anything...and I mean it, Jack, anything…”

“I know. Thanks, Danny.” Jack smiles at him, right at him this time, and Daniel files that away to remember, wondering if that’s what Charlie would have looked like as a sweet teenager. Jack, as if he’s been watching and waiting, comes out onto the stoop behind them at that moment. He probably was watching them, knowing Jack. He wouldn’t even trust himself with Daniel. 

“You ready, kid? We’re gonna be late on your first day,” he grumbles, sliding on his sunglasses and tossing his keys in the air as he strides past to his truck. 

“I was waiting for you!” Little Jack retorts, leaping to his feet. He doesn’t even look back at Daniel as he rushes over to the passenger side of the truck, but he does call back his farewell before he climbs in. “Bye, Daniel!”

Daniel has to take a moment before he goes inside and gets ready to leave for the Mountain himself, but he’s pretty sure it’s all going to be okay this time. 


	27. Snippet: Lifeboat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the world conspires against Daniel, as per usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S7E6 ("Lifeboat")
> 
> After chapter 26 which was a monster, have a quick little interlude. And anyway, who says Jack can't evolve? Not Daniel.

“Jack!”

Daniel’s desperate cry of warning is the last thing Jack remembers before he starts to wake up in the infirmary. He can just barely hear a familiar voice at the edge of his consciousness, cutting through the blinding headache he’s woken with. “Oy,” he grates out, trying to lift a hand to squeeze the pain from his head. 

“Doctor!” a voice cries out, as Jack lets his arm fall back down on the bed. 

“Inform General Hammond that the Colonel is awake,” he pries his eyes open as Janet rests a cool hand at his wrist, taking his pulse and eyeing the monitors. The nurse rushes off, and even the sound of her uniform rustling is loud against his headache. 

“Hey, Doc,” he manages to gasp out, but this time when he blinks at least he can open his eyes all the way. 

“How are you feeling, Sir?”

“Headache,” Jack admits, “bad.”

“Well, I can take care of that, but first I need to know if you're feeling…yourself?”

“Other than this nail through my head, fine. Why?”

“I'll explain later. Teal'c managed to get the three of you back through the Stargate from the ship, my team took it from there.”

He absently notes that it’s good that Teal’c has recovered his mojo. They needed him on SG-1, and there had been a few moments recently when Jack really wondered if Teal’c would leave them because of his perceived inadequacies. Whatever had hit Jack, presumably it either didn’t affect Teal’c or he’d recovered faster. Even with Tretonin instead of his symbiote, the big guy tends to bounce back faster than the humans. “Carter and Daniel?”

“Major Carter is suffering the same after-effects as you, Sir.” Jack grunts in response, closing his eyes. If Sam’s the same as him, then she should recover any minute now or might already be awake. That’s good news. 

“Janet?” Sam’s voice comes from the bed beside him, faint and sounding just as pained as he feels. 

“Sam?” Fraiser abandons Jack, but he can hear her cover the couple of feet to the next bed over. “Hey. It's gonna be fine. You've both suffered some form of neural shock.” 

Jack forces himself to open his eyes to look over and check on Carter, and as he’s doing that, the General strides into the infirmary. “Colonel, Major? How are you feeling?”

“Got a nail in my head, Sir,” Jack complains, wishing they’d hurry up with the vital-checking schtick and go ahead and give him something to dull this pain. 

“That sounds like our Colonel O'Neill,” Hammond chuckles, looking at Fraiser. 

“Their EEG's show normal brain activity, Sir,” she agrees. “They appear to be unaffected.”

“Unaffected? By what?” Jack demands, and does another mental headcount. If Teal’c was fine to bring them home, and Sam beside him is also fine, that leaves...oy. Crap. “Where's Daniel?” He struggles to get upright, batting ineffectually at the cords and wires connecting him to Janet’s machines. She’s back over to him immediately, hands on his chest, pushing him back down. 

“Sir, I need you to stay right where you are, at least until you're strong enough.”

“I'm fine!” Jack manages to get a hand behind himself and uses the other to try and push her away, but she doesn’t budge. 

“No, you're not, Sir!”

“Oww,” gasping for breath, and feeling like someone took the nail out of his head and heated it to red-hot before sticking it back in, Jack is forced to admit he isn’t strong enough to get out of the bed. “No, I'm not.”

“Colonel.” Hammond’s voice is pitched to get his attention, so Jack obliges, turning his head to look up at his commander. His voice as he continues is gruff, but there is no mistaking the fondness in his expression. “Teal’c declined to leave the observation room. I believe he intends to keep your customary vigil over Doctor Jackson. You can rest, and recover.”

“We will need the both of you back to firing on full to help Daniel,” Janet adds solemnly.

* * *

When he finally manages to get released from the infirmary after getting a couple of hours of shuteye, Teal’c yields his watch over Daniel to Jack without question and goes the task of aiding Sam. Nobody demands that Jack leave his post in the observation room, even as half of SG-1 heads back to the  _ Stromos _ to look for answers. Jack has to trust that SG-12 will keep them safe, because he feels glued to this window, and his partner down below. 

This is just a little bit too much like the last time Danny got his mind invaded, for Jack’s comfort. What if he leaves, even to look for a cure, and Daniel surfaces asking for him? On an even more solemn note, he promised Daniel that he’d never get put back into psychiatric care outside of teh SGC, for any reason, and he doesn’t quite trust even Janet not to break that promise if Jack isn’t here to enforce it...not if she really thought it was in Daniel’s best interest. It’s looking pretty bleak, another start-calling-the-alien-allies situation, until Daniel surfaces for the briefest of moments. 

Jack knows the instant Daniel is back in control of his body and jumps up from the chair, pressing a hand to the glass. Janet is only a millisecond behind him, her voice and hands turning gentle as she tries to reassure their terrified teammate. But they only get those couple of seconds, and then someone else takes Daniel’s place. Jack smashes his fist against the glass, once, and then winces at the pain as he rests his forehead on the cool surface. The Tok’ra, the Asgard, the Tollan - they have been either unreachable, unhelpful, or almost too late every time the SGC has needed them in recent times. One of these times, ‘almost too late’ is going to be permanently too late...and it’s not going to be when it’s Daniel. It can’t be. Jack has to believe that Sam and Janet can figure this one out on their own. 

* * *

Daniel does not bounce back as quickly as Jack and Sam had. Moments after waking up on the  _ Stromos,  _ he’d passed out again. Apparently, housing a dozen minds for most of a day was more taxing than the rest of them could begin to understand. Teal’c had carried him back through the Stargate, and after running a few more brain scans and confirming that his brain was normal and that he was just tired, Janet had let Jack settle him into his own room for the night. His bed on base, that is - she’d flatly refused to let him leave the Mountain until he woke up again and was able to have a full conversation with her. 

_ “C’mon, Doc,” Jack had wheedled. “Don’t you think he’s been through enough today? He doesn’t need to be disturbed by all the comings and goings in the infirmary while he gets some rest. You said yourself he’s fine, just probably tired.” _

_ “You’d think he’d be used to waking up in the infirmary, at this point,” Fraiser had said with a roll of her eyes, but after a long look at Daniel lying on the gurney, face crumpled up into a worried frown in his sleep that looks anything but peaceful, she relented. “But he needs to be monitored. I want his vitals recorded at least every three hours, Colonel.” _

_ “I won’t leave his side,” Jack promised.  _

_ Janet turned a sardonic look on him that felt entirely too knowing. “I’m sure you won’t,” she muttered and then started quietly unhooking him from the last few machines. “If he wakes up, try to get him to drink some more water. He can have more medication for the headache every four hours if you can wake him to take them. If he’s hungry, something light. If he’s up to it in the morning, bring him back down here before breakfast. Otherwise, I’ll come by to check on him at 09:30.” _

Now, Jack’s got the bedside lamp on, and some overdue reports spread out across his lap. Daniel is sprawled out on his stomach on the other half of the bed. Jack’s wishing for the reading glasses he still pretends not to need but finds ease his eye strain anymore when he’s doing long hours of reading. There’s a pair stashed away in the bottom of Daniel’s desk, (because his partner is prone to tossing them to Jack when he starts muttering about not being able to sit to do paperwork for  _ even one more minute _ , hoping to squeeze in a little bit more office time before Jack hustles him off to do something else) but Jack doesn’t want to go trekking through the base this time of night to find them. 

A few minutes later he is glad he didn’t when Daniel starts to shift restlessly beside him. Reaching around, Jack touches his forehead - no fever. Probably just nightmares, then, or the headache. He’s about due for more meds. Sliding his hand down, he gently kneads the pressure points at the base of the other man’s skull. Daniel groans and rolls towards him, blinking in the warm glow of the lamp. 

“J’ck?” his voice is dry from disuse, and his tongue flicks out over his lips. It’s ineffectual, as his next words are just as hoarse. “Wha-?”

“Easy, Danny,” Jack sweeps his files into one pile and throws them on the ground - an issue for the morning. “You’re back at the SGC. How do you feel?”

“M’brain hurts,” the younger man complains, “Tired. Ow.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Your brain got a little overused today.” Daniel squints up at him, face scrunching up in confusion, and Jack shakes his head. “Nevermind. Janet gave me some more meds, these should help with the ow.” He lifts Daniel into a half-sitting position, letting him use Jack as a support as he reaches behind him to get the pills and the glass of water from the nightstand. He holds out the pills and a pliant Daniel opens his mouth obligingly, taking a sip of the water right after when Jack holds it to his mouth to swallow them. Jack feeds him the rest of the glass in small sips, and by the time it’s gone Daniel’s face has relaxed a little, the medication already chasing away the pain. 

“Did we get attacked?” he sounds stronger, though he keeps his voice at a whisper pitch. 

“Something like that,” Jack agrees absently, wrapping a hand around Daniel’s wrist and counting heartbeats. He adds this number - still slightly high, but consistent - to the clipboard Janet had foisted on him. 

“Sam?” Daniel struggles to sit up further, alarmed, but Jack moves to hold him in place. He doesn’t like how easy it is to do so, but his partner’s still half asleep. “Teal’c?”

“Settle down, you’re not getting up. Janet would have my head,” he uses his restraining hold on Daniel to feel that he’s still taking deep, even breaths and records that stat as well. “They’re both fine. It was you getting in trouble, like usual.”

The grumbled rebuke at the end is what seems to get to the archaeologist - Daniel deflates, leaning away from Jack and almost toppling over the other way before Jack can adust his grip and lower him back down to the mattress. “Sorry,” he sniffs, and Jack wants to kick himself. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he disagrees, “I didn’t mean it like that.” Daniel looks up at him, and somehow even when he’s mostly out of it, his eyes are wide and bright in the lamplight as they question the truthfulness of Jack’s claim. “I’m just still a little on edge. You scared the crap out of us, kid.”

“Sorry, Jack,” he says again, but his voice this time is sheepish instead of bordering on devastated, and he rolls back towards Jack as he yawns. “What time is’t?”

“Still early. Go back to sleep,” Jack reaches over and snaps off the light, more than happy to abandon his reports and get some sleep himself. As he lays down and starts to pull the blankets back over both of them, Daniel wraps his arms around him, plastering himself to Jack in an octopus-like way that’s strangely comforting in its familiarity. 

“Stay?” Daniel begs, even as his eyes are sliding closed. Jack wraps an arm around him, glad he’d bumped down the temperature in Daniel’s quarters in preparation for the full-body contact that sleeping Danny usually wanted. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. 


	28. Enemy Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack gets hurt, and Daniel does Daniel things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S6E7 (“Enemy Mine”). Nobody can tell me they really think Danny would have gotten away with going off alone with Chaka if Jack had been there, right? Not without a fight, anyway.

He can only ignore Jack looming in the doorway of his office for so long. He knows it’s Jack, and he knows he’s mad because he’s remained in the doorway, uninjured shoulder propped up on the frame, instead of coming in and sitting down, or playing with the things on Daniel’s shelves. Not at all interested in having this conversation, he stays hunched over his monitor and pretends not to notice his partner’s presence. 

To his chagrin, he only lasts about five minutes, and that isn’t enough time to inspire Jack to make the first move. Damn his military training and ability to just stand around doing nothing without going insane. Daniel shuts down the program he’s running and spins his chair around to his work table, pretending to be surprised to see the colonel. 

“Jack!”

“Daniel,” he responds flatly, not moving. 

“...Jack?” Figuring at this point he has nothing to lose, Daniel tries the wide-eyed, innocent, I-don’t-know-what’s-going-on look. It doesn’t usually work on his colonel, but hey, there’s a first time for everything and today could be it. Jack just looks at him for a minute, before pushing off of the doorframe and sauntering into the office. He pulls the chair opposite Daniel out with a foot and drops into it, somehow managing to make the action look languid and a little dangerous, even as he’s protecting his injured shoulder. Daniel is momentarily distracted by admiring his partner’s grace until his wandering gaze meets Jack’s steely eyes. 

“When I told Colonel Edwards you were a pain in the ass,” Jack drawls, “it wasn’t a challenge to prove me right.”

He can feel the flush of embarrassment across his face and the heat up the back of his neck. “I solved it,” he protests. “I negotiated the mining rights that we needed.”

“Yeah?” Jack leans forward a little bit, and Daniel resists the urge to sit back away from him. “And where did going off alone into enemy territory with no backup or even a weapon factor into your plan, Doctor Jackson? Spur-of-the-moment poor decision making, or planned idiocy?”

“Jack, the Unas were never our enemy!”

“Oh for crying out loud, Daniel,” Jack snaps, “tell that to Lieutenant Ritter! Oh, right, you can’t, because the Unas killed him!”

“I-I  _ am _ sorry about Lieutenant Ritter,” Daniel sighs, closing his eyes before looking back up at Jack over the rim of his glasses. “You know I am. But they were just defending their sacred ground, and we can’t fault them for that.”

“Maybe not,” Jack concedes. Daniel catches a momentary softening of his lover’s hard expression and feels a corresponding rush of affection. He also knows that Jack had stood up for him with Edwards because he’d overheard them. 

_ Daniel has already changed into off-world gear and started to head to the Gateroom and go get Chaka when it occurs to him that he should probably tell Jack where he’s going. He changes course to double back to Jack’s office, feet walking the familiar path while his nose is buried in his journal where he has written down everything he’s learned about the Unas language; the only reason he doesn’t walk right into the middle of the conversation is that he basically walks into the mostly closed-door, unused to finding it so, and he fumbles his journal for a minute and hears Edwards before he can walk through.  _

_ “You can’t seriously tell me you think this is a good idea,” _

_ “What can it hurt? Best case scenario it works, worst case scenario you get brownie points for cooperating, and you move on to plan B,” Jack says, in one of his most reasonable tones of voice. It’s one of those tones that says he’s humoring the speaker, but doesn’t particularly agree. _

_ “Come on, Jack, everyone knows the man is a walking disaster. And you think we should listen to his crackpot theory that he and this other giant lizard can negotiate peace? That nonsense might be all well and good on your first-contact missions, but this is a cut and dry military op.” Oh. They’re talking about Daniel. He’s torn between being mad at Edwards for being so narrow-minded, embarrassed that people in the SGC actually talk about him like this, and a fleeting clench of fear in his gut that he’s about to hear Jack agree with this man. He wants to leave, but morbid curiosity has him glued to his spot. _

_ “Hey!” Jack snaps, and the indulgent quality to his tone is replaced by something unyielding. “You don’t get to talk about him like that. That man opened the Stargate, and has saved the Earth more times than any of us can count. We all owe him...everything, and don’t you forget it. Hammond and Vidrine certainly haven’t.” Daniel is sure his eyes are as big around as dinner plates. He’s  _ never  _ heard Jack stand up for him like this. It’s...nice. _

_ “Of course...I didn’t mean it like…,” the other colonel flounders for a moment, taken aback by Jack’s sudden anger, but rallies a little. “He’s just...so...you even said so earlier!” Jack had, actually, said something along those lines on the planet, but he’d backed Daniel up anyway. “He’s a nightmare to have on a mission.”  _

_ “Look, Martin, Daniel’s not military. It’s true that he can be a giant pain in the ass. He doesn’t follow orders, he’s never where you expect him to be, he wanders off, he speaks up for the group without checking in with his commanding officer, he’s not intimidated by anyone or anything, he hates using his weapon, he makes everything complicated, and he doesn’t see a damn thing in black and white.” With that litany of offenses, Daniel bites his lip, feeling raw and hurt, and starts to step back away from the cracked-open door. But Jack isn’t done. “But God, he’s worth it. He speaks a million and one languages, and get a read on strange people and cultures faster than anyone I’ve ever met. He can see the good in everybody. He’ll give his life for yours without even thinking twice, and he knows something about every damn thing. If there’s a single chance in hell of solving a problem without shooting your way out of it, Daniel can find it. He sees a perspective that we probably never had, and if we did, it was trained out of us. We’re military guys, and we’ve been taught to use force to get our way. But eventually, if you stick around, you’re going to get into trouble off-world that you can’t shoot or threaten or bully your way out of. When you do, you better hope you have Daniel or one of his proteges on your team, because it’ll be your best chance of survival.”  _

_ There’s humiliating tears pricking at the corners of Daniel’s eyes, but they aren’t sad tears. He loves this man. Edwards seems to be speechless, but his expression must be at least somewhat accepting, because Jack’s tone relaxes a little bit from icy and razor-sharp back to something appropriate for a pleasant chat between colleagues. “Daniel’s not a big fan of chain of command. And if he thinks you’re wrong, it’s true that he might not do as he’s told. Worse, he’s almost always in the right, which makes dressing him down for ignoring your orders an ordeal. It’s enough to drive a man to drink, sometimes. But if you respect him, he’ll respect you in return, and he’ll at least make an effort to cooperate. If you treat him like crap, Edwards, he’s going to make your life miserable. So I suggest you try to get along.” Jack doesn’t sound particularly put out by this concept - almost pleased by it, actually. Daniel smiles a little to himself, and turns away. He’ll have to come back in a few minutes and make a ton of noise on his way.  _

Warmth is replaced with trepidation when Jack’s expression goes flinty again as he leans in towards Daniel. “But I can fault you for doing something so stupid. There was no good reason not to at least keep Teal’c with you. You better believe if it weren’t for this,” he gestures to his injured shoulder with his opposite hand, “I would be a pain in your ass, Dannyboy.”

The clear threat in that makes Daniel squirm, and drop his gaze to the work table. They haven’t...Jack hasn’t spanked him since before he ascended. It took a while to get their relationship back on track, and though they are as close now as ever, things have been as calm as can be for those who go through the Stargate on a daily basis. Or, at least, Jack and Daniel have been pulling together as a team. Daniel hasn’t done anything that Jack disapproves of, nor anything to trigger his own guilt complex past what he can handle himself. Their disagreements have been minor. 

But.

Daniel had known when he handed his beretta over to Teal’c and went alone with Chaka that Jack would not approve, and that he’d never have gotten away with it if Jack hadn’t been Earthbound. Honestly, he hadn’t expected Teal’c to let it happen so easily. Still, Daniel hadn’t felt guilty about doing it anyway until this minute, when Jack called him on it. Slowly, he looks back up across the desk, studying his lover’s face. Jack looks...exhausted. Their colonel loathes being left behind, and Daniel can’t pretend there hadn’t been some moments there when things had been touch-and-go; Jack would have had time to read all about them now from several different viewpoints as reports got turned in, even before they factor in chatting with T.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” he admits, “I didn’t want to take Edwards’ men anyway. I didn’t trust them, after what happened to the lieutenant. But I should have taken Teal’c.”

  
  
“Damn right,” Jack affirms. “We mostly broke you of the habit of rushing in and doing stupid things, before. Don’t make me do it again, okay? We’re a team. You have to trust us to do our jobs, too.”

“Got it,” Daniel mutters, fighting the urge to blush. He’s a grown man, damn it, and Jack’s disapproval shouldn’t feel like this. He has to admit, though (even if only to himself), that what  _ Jack _ thinks has always meant more to him that most other people.

“Peachy,” the man across the desk murmurs, and Daniel looks up at him again. “You’ll be happy to know, Danny, that your desire not to ‘break in’ a new colonel has been communicated clearly to Hammond. SG-1 is grounded until I’m fit to ship out again. You can catch up on all,” he gesture expansively to Daniel’s cluttered office, “this stuff. Get in some weapons and hand-to-hand practice with Teal’c.”

Daniel isn’t sure whether this is a good thing, or partially a rebuke on the General’s part for his behavior on P3X-403. The General didn’t seem mad, but, he knows sometimes Hammond lets him off the hook for things that he maybe shouldn’t, and that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get upset about them. The not-quite-suggestion about brushing up on his martial skills with T is certainly not a reward, coming from Jack in this mood. The Jaffa was not pleased with his solo antics either, and will probably drop Daniel on his ass a few extra times in retribution. Chewing on his lip, he studies Jack, but the man’s face is impassive, giving nothing away. 

“Yeah,” Daniel gives in, sighing. “I am sorry,” he laments, quietly. This, this is part of why he’d ever set in motion their... other method of dealing with things like this. It did vanquish his own guilt, but also Jack O’Neill had trouble letting things go. He liked the clear-cut consequences of his Air Force, and had always struggled with the lack of those same clear definitions in his personal life, and in Daniel’s case, also the fact that his lover wasn’t subject to any military consequences for his actions.  _ That  _ cleared the air for both of them, when needed, quicker and with less chance for them hurting each other, emotionally. In this case, though, Daniel’s not sure he’s ready, even if Jack was physically up to it. They’ll have to resolve this the old-fashioned way.

  
  
“Okay,” Jack agrees, and then Daniel hears him pause, take a deep breath. He peeks upwards through his eyelashes and watches Jack run his uninjured hand over his face. When he speaks again, the edge has gone from Jack’s voice - reprimand delivered, promise to be less reckless secured, his lover has relaxed back into his chair with a calm look on his face. Something in Daniel’s heart swells - maybe he wasn’t the only one who grew some while they were apart. “Well, then, how about we grab Sam and Teal’c and blow this joint? It’s quittin’ time, and I’m hungry.”

“Sounds good,” the archaeologist agrees, standing up and grabbing his jacket off his chair. Jack is waiting for him as he rounds the desk, and slings an arm around his shoulders as they turn off the light and walk into the hall. It’s not the hug Daniel wants, but it’s the best equivalent he can get on base. 

“So,” Jack says, and Daniel knows without looking he’s smirking. “Tell me about how you just walked into a meeting with two generals and a colonel that you weren’t invited to and got everyone to do things your way, as usual. Did Edwards make that expression that makes him look constipated?”


	29. Snippet: Avenger 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys share a quiet moment following a hard few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the slow updates. Real life has been a little crazy and getting a little rough. I promise that this fic is not abandoned, I will finish following the rest of the Sg-1 series at the least. 
> 
> This chapter is literally just fluff. I'm not sorry. 
> 
> Tags to S7E9 (Avenger 2.0).

The sound of the front door closing and keys being dropped in the dish by the door carries through the house. A couple of moments later, Jack’s worried voice echoes down the hall. “Daniel?” 

Sinking lower into the hot water, Daniel can’t bring himself to respond right away. He’s not even sure whether he wants company - he’d seriously considered going to his own house, but he couldn’t seem to get warm, and Jack’s large soaking tub had been like a siren song. Anyway, it’s not a big house. It won’t take Jack long to find him. 

That thought proves all too correct a moment later when the door eases open, and Jack appears, barely a shadow in the doorway. There’s only faint evening light in the long hallway, but it’s still more than the complete darkness of the bathroom where Daniel is hiding. “Daniel?” he repeats, and Daniel knows without looking up that he’s probably got that slight head tilt going on, and the narrowed eyes. 

“Jack,” he replies, without moving. 

“What are you doing in the dark?”

Daniel doesn’t have a good answer to that, so he shrugs. Jack seems to consider this for a moment, and then he turns and walks away. That should make him happy, since he had convinced himself he wanted to be alone, but Daniel feels a little abandoned instead. He lets his head fall back until his ears are submerged so he doesn’t have to listen to Jack walk away. His chest feels tight and he keeps his eyes closed, even though it’s too dark to see much. 

Instead of allowing himself to think about his most recent mission, he starts translating poetry in his head, cycling through languages on auto pilot.

The warm water in his ears isn’t enough to hide the sound of heavy footsteps coming back into the bathroom or the sound of the door closing. It sounds far away though, watery and muffled, and Daniel’s curiosity doesn’t get the better of him until something clunks down hard on the edge of the tub. He opens his eyes and sees nothing, but only for a second before a small bright light flares, and he has to blink against the brightness of it. Jack lowers the lighter to the candle wick until it catches, and then tosses it casually back up behind him onto the countertop. 

Slowly, Daniel sits up, gravitating towards the side of the bath closest to his partner, folding his arms on the edge and resting his head on them. The light from the flickering candle casts Jack in sharp relief as he lowers himself to sit on the floor beside the tub, highlighting the deepening wrinkles on his face. In contrast to the age the wrinkles suggest, he is graceful in his descent, even with both hands still full. He sets one of the heavy glasses at Daniel’s elbow and raises the other to take a sip before he props his elbows on his knees and waits in relaxed silence. 

Tentatively, Daniel takes the glass and sips it. The whiskey is strong, and pleasantly warm going down. Daniel takes another sip and sighs. “I can’t get warm,” he admits. “I know it’s my imagination, but…,” he sets the glass down and puts his chin back down on his arms.

“I would have thought that you would have had enough of water,” Jack observes, but it’s not judgmental. Daniel shrugs again; the warm and quiet of Jack’s bathtub is worlds away from the chaos of P3L-997 as the floodwaters threatened to wash all of them away. 

“Have you ever been caught in a flood like that?” He murmurs into the quiet when the memories of lashing rain and freezing water threaten to overwhelm him again. Something dark flits across his colonel’s face, indicating it was probably something from his special ops days that he’s not going to be super keen to share, but he nods slowly in acknowledgment. Daniel searches his partner’s eyes, trying to ascertain if he is digging into something better left buried, but Jack gives him a little wave of encouragement with one hand. 

“Everything happened so quickly,” he finally continues softly. We knew that they all needed to be evacuated, you know that’s why we were there, but our plan was a slow evacuation over days. Maybe weeks.” Jack knows all of this - he’d griped about Danny going out with another team, citing all of the times that it had gone terribly wrong, but Daniel was one of the only people who’d managed to learn the language well enough to get by, and with the tight timeframe there really were no other options. He’d come along to drop his archaeologist and the team coordinating the evacuation off, but then he’d had to go be Teal’c’s backup at a meeting with rebel Jaffa. It should have been a wet, unpleasant, but fairly straightforward mission on Daniel’s side of things. “Right as the Gate went down, it was like the whole decay process suddenly was moving ten times as fast as the calculations said it was supposed to, and we had no way to move anyone.”

Every time Daniel closes his eyes, he can see the water roaring around him, undercurrents threatening to sweep people off of their feet and under the dark surface, rain lashing at their hands and faces, enough lightening to have set the whole world on fire if it wasn’t so damn wet. He shudders against the memories, glancing down into the glass, the whiskey turned a glowing amber-orange in the candlelight. “They didn’t want to abandon their homes. We didn’t have enough time to convince them all. And even the ones who believed us, we couldn’t save them all.”

He hadn’t asked how many people hadn’t made it through the Stargate, but he has a fairly good idea anyway. The worst is the few they’d lost  _ at  _ the Gate. When the DHD had finally come back online, the stargate had already been more than half submerged. One of the marines with free-diving experience had been able to get down to the DHD and dial, but then they’d had to ferry people from the high ground outside the city down to the Gate in a hodgepodge armada of the inflatable rafts the Tau’ri brought and a few watercraft salvaged before the storms and rising floodwaters swept them all away, but because the evacuation site was on land, they’d had to have the people get out of their boats and swim through the Gate, and a couple of them hadn’t made it and hadn’t been caught by the Marines in the boats surrounding them. It was horrifying. 

Jack reaches out and brushes some errant wet locks of hair out of his face, and his touch and his expression are both impossibly gentle. Daniel leans into the touch and Jack lets his hand linger, warm on the side of his face. “Danny, you did everything you could. Above and beyond. You’re human. There are going to be days we lose to mother nature.” Even this, just this, soothes some of the yawning chasm of hurt inside of Daniel. This gentle side of Jack that he gets almost entirely to himself is better than any drink, drug, or medicine. 

“I just keep seeing them,” he confides, and there’s no response for Jack to make to that. The only sound between them is the barely audible crackle of the burning candle. Jack doesn’t need words to convey his feelings, rubbing his thumb gentle back and forth where it’s resting along his jaw, his expression sympathetic. Jack lets him drift in his own thoughts until he finishes the last of the whiskey and regretfully sets the glass down and then he asks, “Did you eat?”

Daniel shakes his head. “Not hungry,” he mutters, and watches Jack’s eyes narrow a little. His partner knows him too well - he doesn’t eat when he’s feeling overwhelmed, whether he’s hungry or not. Before he can say something to appease Jack, his body betrays him and he shivers, an involuntary reaction to the cooling water. The man sitting in front of him frowns and dips his fingers in the water and quickly pulls them back out. 

“Jesus, Daniel,” he gripes, reaching across to open the drain himself. “No wonder you can’t get warm.” He takes his own glass and Daniel’s and puts them on the counter by the lighter and then yanks a towel off of the rack and holds it open. “C’mon, Spacemonkey.”

Daniel was considering balking on principle, but the endearment melts his resolve before it gains any traction, and he stands up and lets Jack wrap the towel around him. Taking the second towel off of the hook, Jack passes it briefly across his hair and then down his legs, briskly drying off enough of Daniel that he isn’t soaking wet. When he encounters no resistance, Jack blows out the candle, wraps an arm around his shoulders, and guides him down the hall to the bedroom. As he yanks back the covers and gently starts to push Daniel down onto the bed, Daniel surfaces from his daze enough to realize first that he’s naked, and then that it’s barely eight o’clock. He can’t go to bed - there’s too much to do. He has several translations sitting in the hallway in his bag. 

“Jack!” he protests, trying to rise against the firm pressure of Jack’s hand on his shoulder.

“No, you’re not suppressing this and going back to work,” Jack growls, pushing a little harder. “Your method of warming up didn’t work, let’s try mine.”

“Jack…”

“There’s nothing on your plate that can’t wait. I checked before I came home.” He doesn’t have the energy to fight against that tone of voice. Daniel gives in, and sits heavily down on the edge of the bed. 

“Thataboy, Danny,” his lover murmurs, and plants a hand on either side of Daniel’s butt, leaning in very close and fitting his mouth to Daniel’s in a searing, searching, hungry kiss. “Let yourself think about something else.”

Oh. Yeah. Daniel won’t ever say it out loud because his colonel doesn’t need his ego stroked, but he was definitely distracting and they for sure got plenty warm.


	30. Evolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get hairy in Honduras, but nothing is going to tear the boys apart now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am SO SORRY about the wait for this update. Real life has been kicking my butt, and I just haven't been able to carve out the writing time. But, this is the longest chapter I've ever written and 4k words longer than what was previously the longest chapter in this fic, so......maybe that makes up for it? :| Anyway, I poured really a lot of my soul into this one, so...enjoy.
> 
> Tags to S7E11 & S7E12 ("Evolution" parts one and two). As always, some dialogue pulled from the episode is obviously not mine, but most of these 14k words is...

When the General dismisses them, Daniel is already halfway to Honduras in his head - running over packing lists, transportation details, how much having Bill Lee along is going to slow him down. To be fair, he  _ likes _ Bill. As far as the non-SG-1 staff of the ‘hard sciences’ department under the Mountain go, Bill is one of the easiest to get along with, and he’s truly smart. But he’s not going to be the greatest asset in an archaeological search. Daniel would almost rather go alone, but he knows that would never fly with the Air Force, even if he could convince Hammond (which he knows he never would be able to - George might not be as overprotective as Jack, but he’s a close second).

_ Jack _ .

That thought stops his whirling mind in its tracks, and Daniel sets down the text he’s paging through, eyes sliding over to his phone. After the recent close call on 997, his partner is not going to be thrilled about him going anywhere without the rest of SG-1, even somewhere that’s on Earth. Jack, who has been off at Peterson for a few days logging flight hours to keep his pilot certifications up to date, has missed out on all of this excitement completely. 

He glances at the clock, looks down at the memo he took a few minutes ago about the military transport already arranged to get him and Bill to Honduras. Peterson is a big place; if he doesn’t reach out and arrange to meet up with Jack on base, they’ll pass like ships in the night and be away before Jack even knows about the mission. A part of Daniel’s mind points out that this is the path of least resistance. What Jack doesn’t know about until afterward won’t hurt him, and Daniel is just acting under the General’s orders. 

The more responsible, but unfortunately smaller, part of his mind reminds him how much progress they’ve been making lately in their relationship, most especially communication. The larger part remembers the last time he’d wanted to go on a dangerous mission suggested by Jacob, and how Jack’s unwillingness to let him go had ripped into the very core of them. Even while his gut is clenching in early guilt and misery, he decides he can’t risk the argument with Jack, because he simply can’t risk knowing his lover still doesn’t trust him. Instead of picking up the phone, he jots down a quick and carefully worded note for his partner instead and tucks it in his pocket to leave in Jack’s locker. 

_ It will be better this way _ , he tells himself as he throws himself back into preparations.

* * *

His first thought when the flagstone snaps back down into place and the whole chamber starts to shake, overtaking the thrill of a successful find, is  _ Jack is going to kill me _ . 

Bill is staring at him, mouth agape, so he adds out loud, “I think running would be a good idea right about now.” As the water breaks around them, he holds tight to the artifact with one hand and uses the other to grab at Bill’s shirt, pulling the shocked engineer to his feet. “Come on, damn it!”

The pressure of the water jetting from the wall knocks both of them off of their feet several times before they get out of the chamber. When they make it back to the tunnel, the water is halfway up their shins, and it’s an effort to run through it, crouched over and holding the cube in front of him to make himself fit in the narrow space. He’s aware of Rogelio’s distressed calls into the radio, but they don’t have time to stop and answer.

The water swirling around them is knee-deep, and then waist-deep. 

Daniel is glad that Bill is right at his back because he doesn’t have the breath to waste cajoling him to go faster - he has to put every effort of energy into fighting the water and moving faster himself. It feels like he isn’t making even an inch of progress. 

The cold water is chest-deep, making each labored breath even more shocking, and then shoulder-deep. Daniel can see the beams of light from the shaft filtering down ahead of them, but as the water creeps up his neck he knows they’re not going to make it before the water closes over their heads. 

“When I say go, take a deep breath,” he orders, just loud enough to make sure the engineer can hear him over the roar of the water, more concerned about getting all of the words out before they are underwater. “I can see the exit but we’re going to be under first. Don’t panic, and don’t fight the current or you’ll get disoriented. Work with the water, it will help push us into the shaft and then we just have to swim up.” 

He glances back. Bill is wide-eyed and pale, but he looks determined. Daniel has a spare thought to hope his companion knows how to swim, and then he hears another wave rushing along the tunnel behind them and since he already had to tip his head back and chin up to give his directions, he knows they’re out of time. “Now, Bill!”   
  
He takes his own deep breath and closes his eyes, letting the powerful water shove him into the final atrium. His body is shoved into the far wall with a hard crunch that knocks some of the air out of his lungs and, cracking his eyes open underwater, he manages to catch Bill with one hand before it does the same to the engineer. He uses that grip on the other man’s shirt to drag him into the narrow space, ensuring he has also found the escape shaft, before pushing off hard towards the surface. For a minute he relies on just his arms, afraid to kick Bill in the head, but when a tentative kick doesn’t hit anything solid he holds the artifact above his head and kicks powerfully towards the surface. 

The water is murky with ages of dust and dirt, and he can’t see anything now with it swirling around. Just as he’s on the verge of disoriented panic himself, the artifact is momentarily a hundred times heavier as it breaks the surface of the water and then it’s gone, replaced by a warm hand dragging him over the edge. As soon as he is free, Bill’s head breaks the surface, and his companion levers himself out of the hole beside him, collapsing on the ground.

“Are you okay?” Rogelio sounds shocked. Daniel thinks the kid might have been truly distressed about them dying, and not just the lost paycheck. “I thought you were dead for sure,” he goes on. “What happened, Señor?”

“We triggered some sort of trap,” Daniel says, still gasping for breath.

“I think I figured out why those passageways were so narrow,” Bill chimes in from behind him. “It's to prevent people from escaping alive.”

“You're good,” Daniel can’t help himself, echoing Bill’s earlier words but imbuing them with a definite bite of sarcasm. As he catches his breath, Daniel is already starting to think of ways to downplay this little incident to keep Jack from going ballistic. Yeah, okay, Bill is probably going to write the full truth in  _ his _ report, but Danny thinks he can convince his colonel that the engineer is just being dramatic, and that they weren’t ever in any  _ real _ danger. He finally gets the water wiped away from his eyes, looking up expecting to see just Rogelio standing in front of them. He has to blink a couple of times to clear his vision and then take a second look because he’d lost his glasses in the shaft, but then his heart sinks.    
  


“What have you found?” Rogelio asks, sounding amazed, and completely oblivious to the new danger behind him. Slowly, Daniel raises his hands and stays silent, even as he gets carefully to his feet. Silence also from Bill behind him is a welcome indicator that his teammate is doing the same. “Oh, I'm not going to rob you, Señor,” the kid laughs a little, so Daniel jerks his chin to indicate the young man should turn around. 

Alerted to the fact that all is not well by the look on their faces, Rogelio slowly turns, to where the one man whose gun isn’t trained on them is smirking. “Usted? Madre de Dios.” He doesn’t get anything else out before the bald man gestures to one of his men.

“Be quiet,” he says to Daniel’s group and then to his henchmen, “Buscarlos.” He lifts his gun and trains it on their guide, and the man on the end breaks away from the others. He roughly pats them down, divesting them of their equipment as he goes. He strips Bill and Daniel of their shirts, too, probably because of the gear shoved into their pockets. When he’s finished, he turns back to the bald man. 

“Sin armas,” he announces, and Daniel relaxes just a little. He’d known that he and Bill weren’t armed, of course, but he hadn’t been sure about Rogelio. They don’t need the increased tension in this situation that would come from both sides having weapons. And he’d been very careful to make sure they didn’t pack anything with them that would lead back to the Mountain or even the Air Force, unless these men had been following them since their arrival in Honduras on a military transport plane. The leader of the men just nods, and the one who’d done the search secures their hands and then starts to blindfold them. As he’s knotting the fabric behind Daniel’s head, Rogelio speaks from somewhere in front of him.

“Ellos puedan pagar,” he tries to negotiate, but anything else he might have said is lost in a pained grunt as something strikes him, hard enough to leave him gasping for breath.    
  
“Be quiet,” the leader repeats in the same frighteningly polite voice, and Daniel squeezes his eyes shut even behind the blindfold.  _ Oh yeah. Jack is going to be pissed. _

* * *

Daniel might have felt a little bit vindicated had he known - Jack’s first response when he found out that Daniel had left on a mission while he was at Peterson was definitely getting mad. 

He’d returned to the Mountain around lunchtime from Peterson, and wandered down to the locker rooms to change, thinking about tracking down his team for a convivial lunch before he spent the last few hours of the day catching up on paperwork. 

When he opened his locker, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Bemused, Jack leaned down to pick it up. It wasn’t white printer paper like an official memo or one of Sam’s brightly colored post-it note reminders.  _ Danny _ , he thinks with a little smile, feeling the heft of the cream-colored paper between his fingers. This is a piece of paper from one of his partner’s fancy notebooks and journals. He sets it down with his phone on the bench and changes quickly, absently shoving his phone into the pocket of his fatigue pants before unfolding the paper, scanning Daniel’s neat and precise handwriting, expecting some welcome home or a quick note about picking something up for dinner. Daniel thinks in writing, and he’s been known to leave notes about some random thought or another if Jack isn’t right there for him to talk to.

‘ _ Jack, _

_ If you’re reading this, then I chickened out of calling you and you beat us back. The General sent me and Bill Lee to Honduras to look for the Telchak device. I didn’t want to argue with you like the last time I went on a mission for Jacob and Selmak.’ _

Jack knows Daniel had hesitated there because there’s an ink blob instead of a period where the linguist had rested his pen and created an extra-large, dark dot. He can envision the frown on his partner’s face, the deep creases above his eyebrows, the way he probably bit his lip. 

‘ _ We should only be a couple of days. I’m sorry I couldn’t call.  _

_ Daniel’ _

_ Damn it, Daniel. _ Jack turns on his heel and stalks out of the lockers to the elevator, taking it up to the floor where Sam’s lab is to get some answers, because his lover’s note was delightfully,  _ infuriatingly _ vague.

Sam is bent over some device on her worktable, something that looks like a tiny welding torch sending sparks everywhere around her gloves and safety goggles. It looks delicate and involved, and he doesn’t want to startle her. Jack leans up against the wall by the door, arms crossed over his chest, and waits. She fiddles for a moment and joins two more pieces together before straightening, shoving the tinted goggles up to rub her face. 

She looks tired, and the fact that she doesn’t notice him immediately is another giveaway that she might be stretched a little thin. Jack mentally recalculates how much of a jerk to be. He gives it another moment and then pushes off the wall and strolls towards her. 

“Colonel!” Sam visibly blinks and reorients herself. “How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough. Haven’t we talked about sleeping regularly before, Major?”

“We in a little bit of a time crunch, sir,” she rebuffs him with a sheepish smile. 

“Aren’t we always?” he mutters, but it’s under his breath, and she doesn’t bother responding. He places Daniel’s note on the worktable between them, waits until she picks it up, and then asks, “Care to fill me in, Carter?”

She does, of course, and he feels pretty caught up on current events when she finishes her rehash. He asks a few clarifying questions about the actual issue at hand just to feel good that he did, and then he taps the heavy paper sitting between them again, raising an eyebrow. “How long has Daniel been gone?”

“About two days. They had a transport out of Peterson on Wednesday to Honduras, and then they were supposed to catch a smaller charter flight yesterday to get closer to their destination and give them a little distance from the Air Force to help support the idea that they’re civilians.” Eyeing Jack carefully, he can see the exact moment she decides that isn’t enough information to keep him happy. “Sir, I talked to him when they landed in Comayagua, and I know he’s been making regular reports to the General. Honestly, compared to what we’re planning, Daniel is safer in Honduras. And you should have seen how excited he was when he was packing a bag full of his archeology equipment.”

Jack knows exactly what Danny would have looked like, knowing he was headed off to play in some ruins out from under the watchful eye of the United States Air Force (and a certain hard-assed Colonel). A part of him that he is trying hard not to acknowledge is a little hurt that his lover hadn’t even called, to share that joy and excitement with him. 

A much bigger part of him is extremely worried, because he doesn’t know of a single mission involving the Tok’ra even peripherally that hasn’t gone sideways, and Honduras isn’t exactly a safe tourist attraction either. Doctor Daniel Jackson could get into trouble anywhere, much less the jungles of South America, and  _ Bill Lee _ is not exactly the backup he would have chosen to send along. Gradually he becomes aware that he’s glaring at Sam, the tension rising, and his worry is doing that thing where it transposes into anger instead. 

God, he’s a broken record. He knows exactly why Daniel hadn’t called him, and that’s it, right there. The last time they had a conversation like that, he’d told Daniel he didn’t trust him and nailed the lid shut on the coffin of their pre-ascension relationship. If he was Danny, he wouldn’t have trusted Jack with this either. 

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he runs a hand over his face and stops glaring at Sam. Maybe if he hangs around the General’s office at the right time, he can take Daniel’s next call and convince his archaeologist he’s not as mad as Daniel is clearly expecting him to be. But in the meantime, he has to get his head in the game and make sure Bra’tac and Jacob don’t convince the  _ rest _ of SG-1 to do something foolish in pursuit of these super-Jaffa. “Okay, Major, I haven’t checked in with the General yet, and it sounds like you are ready to go talk to him about this science stuff too. Run me through the plan again on the way.”

* * *

He doesn’t have a lot of time to worry about Daniel over the next twelve hours or so, because the super-soldier proves rather difficult to capture. It isn’t until they’ve dragged it back to the Mountain, gotten Reynolds settled with Janet, and he’s left the creepy half-formed Goa’uld to Jacob and Sam’s tender mercies that he has a free minute to track down Hammond. When the General reluctantly admits that Daniel is now six hours overdue, Jack gets that prickle of unease down the back of his neck. 

It’s stupid. Probably, Daniel just got caught up in the thrill of his dig and forgot to check-in. He’ll be sheepish and sorry about it when he calls in next, Jack can justifiably yell a little bit, and then spoil him when he gets back by letting him talk about Mayan ruins for a week. 

It’ll be fine.

* * *

Silence fills the little hut as the man outside thunks the bar down across the door, and Daniel waits until he hears footsteps retreating before turning to look at Bill again. It’s safe to assume that there is still a guard posted outside the door, but since their captor has been speaking to his people in Spanish, Daniel is guessing most of them don’t speak a lot of English, and they’re probably free to talk about anything they’d normally be free to talk about off-base. Non-classified things. 

“You okay?” He levers himself up to face the engineer. The rebels hadn’t seemed all that interested in roughing them up, but he’d heard Bill take at least two falls in the jungle before they arrived. “Bill?” he adds, a little sharper, when the man doesn’t respond at first. It seems to shake him from his daze, and he looks up into Daniel’s face.

“Uh, yeah. Fine,” the man starts out strong but then he gives a slightly hysterical giggle. “I mean, we’re fine, right? What could possibly be wrong? We’ve been kidnapped by some rebel militia and nobody knows where we are. It’s fine.”

Standing, Daniel presses his shoulder to the wall so he can get a view of the horizon between the tattered slats of wood, and tries to wrap his tired mind around some quick calculations about geography and time zones. “Look, this is one of those few times where being part of a military operation is going to work in our favor,” he jokes as he sits back down, but by the way Bill is staring at him, it falls flat. “We’ve definitely missed at least one check-in with the General. I was cutting it close before we went in the shaft, and I knew it. He’ll give us a couple of hours of leeway and then he’ll put the wheels in motion. When we’re not any of the places we’re supposed to be in town, they’ll send someone to check the ruins. As soon as they find our stuff at the site and we’re not there, they’ll send in the cavalry.”

It’s easy to keep his voice light and upbeat like he’s not particularly worried. He leaves out what they’re both thinking - that their guide is dead already - and hopes that maybe Bill is a little in the dark about the US government’s relationship with the various South American governments that might delay a search and rescue team from being deployed. Daniel knows in his bones that Jack will come anyway ( _ no matter what _ ) but it could be another day before his partner even knows he’s missing, and if the government says they can’t come, that would slow Jack down considerably. 

_ I should have called Jack, _ he thinks miserably as he slides back down to sit beside Bill. He’s starting to feel his own aches and bruises, and he’s very aware it’s not going to get better.  _ It wouldn’t have killed us to take the damn military escort he would have insisted on. _ If Daniel hadn’t been so impatient to leave, that escort might have even been Jack, and then they probably wouldn’t be in this situation. 

* * *

They’re left to stew in their thoughts for an entire day, and most of another day. It’s a common tactic, letting your subjects get hungry and thirsty and exhausted, but that doesn’t make it any less effective. That’s the thing about torture and interrogation techniques - often, you don’t have to be particularly creative. Just cruel.

He spends the first day trying to keep Bill’s spirits up, but by day two the engineer is morose and lethargic, and he gives it up as a lost cause. Instead, he devotes a good portion of his day trying to map the rebel camp; the hut is poorly built and Daniel thinks he could break them out, but it wouldn’t do any good if they just get shot trying to escape. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a good view of portions of the encampment and he can’t get a good headcount of men either. There are at least six, but he gets the feeling more men are coming and going. No, it doesn’t look like running is a good first choice. They need to give the Air Force time to find them. 

What Daniel is dreading, that doesn’t seem to have occurred to Bill at all, is that starvation isn’t likely to be the rebels’ only course of action. Raphael had made it clear he wanted information - and neither of them had been forthcoming. Of course, even if they tell the man the truth, he’s going to think they’re lying. 

Looking over at his companion who has laid down on the ground and seems to be staring sightlessly at the roof, Daniel almost wishes Bill would lose consciousness. He’s a wild card; the archaeologist has no clue what kind of fortitude he might have under pressure, and he’s not sure he wants to find out. 

Finally, they come. When he hears the voices outside the hut and the bar scrape against wood as it is raised, Daniel scrambles to his feet to make sure they grab him first. It works, and he stumbles out into the bright light with their angry hands pushing at him. He feigns more clumsiness and disorientation than he’s truly feeling, so he can get as good a look at the campsite as possible. They’ve done a fairly good job of clearing land for their base, but his heart jumps when he gets a glimpse of how close the back of the hut is to the jungle. If push comes to shove, he thinks they could sprint that distance. 

The men shove him into a chair in a new building, and despite his best efforts, the first thing that gets Daniel’s full attention is the food and water on the table. His stomach cramps painfully just at the sight. Raphael steps forward from the dim corner to pour himself a cup of water, messily spilling some and smirking as if he knows that Daniel’s mouth is trying in vain to produce saliva in response. 

“You've not had water or food for two days,” the man says conversationally, putting down the cup and selecting a piece of pineapple instead. Daniel looks away, but there’s no disguising the familiar sound of the juicy liquid being bitten into. “Ahh. Hmm. Muy delicioso. Pick of the season. This is very good. Today, we're going to start slow. I'm going to ask you, again…” he turns, and his movement makes Daniel slit his eyes open as the man sweeps a cloth off of the Telchak device on the table. “What is this?”

He can’t answer that question. He shouldn’t answer any of the questions. Daniel takes a steadying breath and looks away from the artifact.

“And this is the part where you do not talk. Okay,” Raphael takes another teasing bite of his yellow fruit, the juice dripping down his fingers, and then waves it in front of Daniel’s face. “Hmm? For you…” a sadistic glint in his eyes, he touches the piece of fruit to Daniel’s lips and then draws it away. Daniel pinches his own hand, in the tender webbing between his fingers, to keep from licking his lips but he can’t help the way his eyes follow the fruit. “And your friend, if you tell me what this is. I don't know how long someone can go without food, but I believe the human body needs water every three or four days.”

_ We’ll live longer than that, _ Daniel’s brain supplies unhelpfully,  _ but we won’t be in any shape to make an escape attempt much past today or tomorrow. _ The heat of the jungle is unhelpful but at least it’s a moist heat - it could be worse. It could be the dry heat of the desert dehydrating them even faster. The man takes another noisy drink of water, and Daniel’s stomach roils and he shivers involuntarily. What if the extraction team is counting on them being able to help in their rescue?

_ What if there isn’t a rescue team on the way? No!  _ He shuts that thought down hard and refocuses on the here and now. They can’t afford to think that way. But they really, really need water - so he breaks his silence, hoping he can convince this man that they’re just nothing and no one. 

“It's an ancient artifact.” he offers quietly, his voice hoarse and dry.

“An artifact?” The man sounds puzzled, as if that wasn’t a clear statement. Even now, Daniel finds that annoying.

“Yeah. I'm an archaeologist, that's what I do. I look for…artifacts.”  _ The best lies are built on truths _ , Jack had always said.  _ Keep it as simple as you can _ . Well, he can’t talk about the Stargate, but funnily enough, it was his documented profession that had him down here in South America. Daniel laughs, nervously, trying to put on the air of a frightened academic. “And now, uh, found one. Seriously, I'm an archaeologist. You guys can look me up on the internet if you want.” He works to channel Jack at his most flippant, straining to look around at the men who had escorted him here. “You have a computer?”

Let them try to find him online. Then maybe they’ll believe he’s crazy and not worth their time, and let them go.  _ Yeah right, tell yourself another fat one, Daniel _ .

“It all makes perfect sense. You're nothing more than an archaeologist, and you find and study artifacts.” Raphael repeats, sounding very earnest.

Daniel matches his tone and nods. “Makes perfect sense.”

“Mmm,” the man hums, unconvinced. “I'm going to ask you one last time. What is this?” He rests a hand on the device, making Daniel’s stomach flip, and then his eyes harden. “And again, you're not so talkative. What gives you the right to come into our country and steal valuable artifacts? You call yourself a scientist? You're nothing but a thief. And you think you're better than me. But I have reasons for what I do.”

For the first time, he sounds like someone who kidnaps and murders random explorers, and the look on his face makes Daniel’s heart start to speed up. Placatingly, he says, “I don't doubt that.”

“Chalo,” Raphael snaps, the same name he’d called out to shoot their guide. Every muscle in Daniel’s body tightens and he can feel his heartbeat kick up another notch, tensed for a blow, but the man steps from behind him to the other side of the hut and uncovers something in the corner. It’s an indistinguishable mass of wires and cables for a moment, but Daniel makes out the shape of a battery underneath the mess just as the man takes the two alligator clips and rubs them together, the sparks crackling in the silence of the tent.

He flinches. He’s been tortured before, but something about the sheer...earthiness of this torture method terrifies him. This is some alien pain stick or unfamiliar weapon, it’s like a bad mafia movie where the plot fails so miserably the directors get all their thrills off of torturing the audience’s favorite character in some gruesome way that feels believable because you could do it in your garage. 

“And here's something else you should not doubt, compadre.” Raphael leans into Daniel’s space, his breath and body reeking. “You will tell me what I want to know.”

_ God, Jack, please hurry.  _ He closes his eyes and says a little prayer to anyone who might be listening.  _ Please hurry.  _ Now _ would be good. _

* * *

It was almost a relief to hear that Daniel had been kidnapped, if only because the uncertain tension in his gut can now be funneled into starting to make plans. He’s already packed before Hammond gives him the go-ahead because there wasn’t a chance in hell he wasn’t going. It’s good to have the backing of the Air Force, but he could have done without the complication of the CIA, and in particular his history with Burke, but he is willing to utilize both as tools to get to Daniel. 

Going after Daniel means leaving Carter to command the mission to Tartarus, so she is his one stop before he heads to catch his plane. If it were  _ any  _ other mission he’d be all about Sam’s first command; God knows she’s more than ready. His reservation lies in the fact that it’s a joint mission with the Tok’ra and the Jaffa. Bra’tac is the definition of a good soldier, but he’s also an ancient being compared to the Tau’ri and despite the respect in the Jaffa culture for their women, Jack has noticed one thing they aren’t is field commanders. And on top of that, she’ll have Jacob and Selmak. It would be bad enough if it was just her dad, who outranked her in the Airforce, but add in an even  _ more  _ ancient being in Selmak and the trouble Tok’ra tend to bring...he just wouldn’t have picked this for his protege’s first real command. 

But it’s not like they have a choice. Someone has to go rescue Daniel. Sam wouldn’t want him to do anything differently, and so he just has to trust that she is prepared. They wish each other luck and he gets on his way.

As he boards the C-130, an airman hands him a thick folder, which proves to hold a set of reports on everything from Daniel’s mission details to the political situation in Honduras to information about how to hire local guides to find Mayan ruins. The efficiency and thoroughness of the report has Walter’s fingerprints all over it, and Jack settles in to learn everything he needs to know even as he wonders if Daniel knows how many people in the SGC would go to bat for him on any given day. 

Burke is an unwelcome reminder that the old Jack O’Neill isn’t necessarily someone the new Jack O’Neill can always be proud of. Their first encounter lasts less than fifteen minutes, a tense and uncomfortable fifteen minutes, before the man gets up and walks away. Inwardly, Jack curses at himself. No, he doesn’t trust Burke, but the man  _ does _ know this territory better than Jack, and what if this isn’t a one-man extraction? If he finds Daniel and Doctor Lee and can’t get them out by himself, he’s going to have to waste precious time trying to get more backup in place. But by the time he swallows his pride, his old service buddy is long gone. 

He’s physically closer to Daniel than he has been in days, but the distance has never felt more insurmountable.

* * *

Absolutely everything hurts. They have to drag him back to the hut because Daniel’s body simply isn’t cooperating. There’s an ugly buzz in the back of his head and his eyes aren’t focusing right, though he wonders vaguely if that’s the missing glasses or effects of the torture. The human body wasn’t meant to endure any of the methods Raphael employed over the last several hours, and even Daniel’s ability to dissociate had only done so much good. He’d passed a good few hours imagining himself into his and Jack’s bed at home, but when dream-Jack started doing the things Raphael was doing to him in real life, he’d given up on that tactic. 

Was that when he’d started screaming? Raphael had liked that. 

His skin is on fire. Or is that what’s underneath his skin? He can’t tell.

If there was anything left in his stomach, he’d vomit. That’s a backhanded blessing, because he would probably choke on his own fluids. He can’t turn his head to see what’s going on. Bill’s yelling, but when Daniel tries to move his body just doesn’t answer his demand. 

For a long time, all he can think is...nothing. The pain is all there is. 

Sometime later when he manages to drag himself upright and out of the stupor of pain, he lets his head fall on his arms, braced on his knees, and breathes. He’s never felt farther from achieving kelno’reem, but it does nevertheless have a steadying effect.  _ Jack _ , he thinks miserably,  _ now would be really good. If it takes you much longer I don’t know what you’re going to be rescuing.  _

When the door opens again, they drop Bill in the same place they’d dropped Daniel. Keeping a wary eye on where the rebels are until they get out of the shack, he crawls over and does a quick once-over of his companion. To his relief, they don’t seem to have worked the engineer over as thoroughly as they had Daniel...maybe he pissed them off less. 

“I never thought I would die like this,” the man mumbles, closing his eyes and looking like he’s totally given up. That won’t work - Daniel needs him to be all in if they do get a chance to escape.

He lifts the cleanest cloth he can find to clean a wound on the other man’s face, judging it’s depth and severity. “Ah, you're not dead yet.” Daniel should know, he’s been dead several times. 

“I'm sorry, Daniel. I couldn't take it.” There’s no point in telling Bill the whole point of torture is for him not to be able to take it, but Daniel is at a loss for other words. “I told them.”

“What?” It takes him a minute to wrap his head around that, because Lee is still breathing. If he told this psychopath they were searching for an alien device to take through their space portals, he would have expected the man to just straight up shoot him in pique. “What'd you tell them?”

But, well, trust them to get kidnapped by the one rebel mafia who for some reason believe the most outlandish story they’re told, instead of the more logical ones Daniel had tried. Bill confirms that when he mutters, “Everything.”

God. Now what? It complicates Daniel’s fledgling escape plans because they really can’t leave the device here if the man knows what it is, or thinks he does - it would be too easy for it to fall into the wrong hands before they can get a team back here to retrieve it. He heaves a heavy sigh, resigned, and does what he can for Bill medically. The engineer’s compliance earns them some water, delivered a half-hour later by some henchman. It’s desperately needed, though not enough by any stretch of the imagination.   
  
Daniel takes note that it doesn’t come with pineapple. Apparently, Daniel’s reticence had lost them that opportunity. He supposes he’ll have to convince Bill again this afternoon that eating bugs is better than starving. The worms are even a little juicy. 

Yeah, it turns his stomach too, but so does dying of starvation. He’s eaten worse. 

Before he gets around to making the opening salvo in that argument again, the rebels come back for him. His stomach drops in real fear this time as they drag him along - if Bill told them everything, Rafael probably wants to torture Daniel to confirm the information. But Daniel can’t risk that, in case he says something Bill didn’t already.

Which means he’s just going to be tortured again. 

They shove him back down in the same wooden chair, this time securing him to it with zip-ties. He guesses they got tired of picking him up and putting him back in the chair last time when his involuntary twitching and convulsions sent him sprawling. Rafael starts off easy - he punches him a few times, slaps his face. Whatever he wants, this time he wants it badly enough to leave Daniel coherent. 

He wonders how long that will last before the man is too angered by Daniel’s responses to care if he gets coherent answers. On the tail of an open-handed strike to Daniel’s face, he demands, “If you value the life of your friend, you will tell me what I want to know!” Tasting copper, Daniel spits blood. He needs to stop bleeding - it’s just wasting liquid he needs to keep inside his body. “Your friend told me this device may be the origin of the Fountain of Youth myth.”

That’s harmless. Anyone who read up about the temple they’d visited, though it was obscure, would get that reference. Daniel tentatively agrees, “Yeah, it may be.”

“How does it work?”

That is not a safe question, though his answer is honest when he says, “I don't know.” Rafael raises his fist, poised to strike, and Daniel just yells the first thing that comes to mind. He wants this man to stop hitting him. He needs his head to stop ringing and to be able to think clearly, not have a concussion on top of everything else. He shouldn’t have gotten frustrated with Bill for breaking. “Look, you grabbed us five minutes after we found it!” That must ring true enough, because the fist doesn’t connect. 

“Who is this Telchak?” 

“He's a mythological figure, a Mayan god that may or may not have lived here thousands of years ago.” Daniel sends silent thanks for questions that are safe to answer that make him seem more cooperative. And so it continues, some of his answers earning him a blow or a kick, others passing muster, until the rebel leans in and grabs Daniel’s chin in one hand and growls.    
  


“I do not think it is so harmful. I have never in my life felt as strong as I do right now.” He swings around and pulls a cloth off of the cube, which is glowing. It’s humming a little, too, which Daniel had thought was a sound in his head but can now attribute to the device.

“You turned it on?” How had he figured out how to turn it on? Sheer dumb luck? What are the chances, that an evil villain stumbles across just the right combination of buttons to turn on the insanely powerful alien device? Sometimes, Daniel hates the universe. 

“Yes.” the man agrees, sounding adoring as he stares down at it. 

“Turn it off,” Daniel pleads. “You don't know what you're dealing with. The effects of the device may be unstable. It's very dangerous. Look, it's beyond our comprehension! Turn it off.”

“You're lying.”

One of the men speaks up from behind them - in English, so probably someone pretty highly ranked, not some farmer talked into being a foot soldier. “What if he isn't? The device is cursed, Raphael; we should turn it off.” 

“Turn it off? Do you not feel different, as well?” Daniel recognizes the look on Rafael’s face from the mirror when he had been in withdrawal from the sarcophagus; apparently, it not only  _ has _ the same effects but also works faster. He goes very still in his chair, unwilling to challenge the man further, tied up without any weapons. However dangerous the man already was, it’s tenfold now. His henchman doesn’t have the same inside knowledge, or caution. He speaks up again.

“I do, and it scares me. Por favor, Raphael, if you will not turn it off, I will.”

Rafael shoots him, with no hesitation. Adrenaline kicking in, Daniel keeps his eyes lowered and struggles not to panic. Forget recovering the device, he and Bill need to get the hell out of Dodge. Now.

One man covers the body, and on Rafael’s signal as he rubs his face, scowling, they cut Daniel’s bonds and drag him unceremoniously across camp back to the hut. As soon as the door closes, he stumbles across the floor and falls to his knees at the weak spot he’d already identified where several boards have started to come loose. He pulls off his belt and one of his boots, creating a makeshift leverage device.

“Uh, Daniel?” Bill slides over, looking at him like he’s gone nuts. 

“Time to go,” he interrupts whatever else the man was going to say. 

“Shouldn't we at least wait till night time?” Bill queries again. Daniel doesn’t have the energy to explain why going into the jungle at night with no weapons or supplies is an awful idea, so he keeps cranking his winch tighter. 

“I don't think we have that long.”

“We won't get a hundred yards before they kill us.”

“Yeah, if we stay, they'll definitely kill us.” The board creaks against its nails. “I saw the short-term effects of that device. I know what a sarcophagus does to a person's sanity, and this is far more powerful. I don't think we want to stick around to find out what long-term exposure does.” The first plank finally pops free at the bottom, and then falls in towards them. He tosses it aside and grabs the next one, able now to get a good hold and the right angle to loosen it as well, pulling it away from the wall. The space still isn’t big enough.

Machine gun echoes through the camp. Spurred on to new urgency, he pulls one more plank away from the frame, leaving just enough room for them to squeeze out of the hole. Nobody is watching them run the fifty feet to cover of deep grasses, because all eyes are on the man with the gun - the man who was dead not thirty minutes ago, as he fires on his own people. 

“That's not good,” he can’t help but observe, and then they start running. They don’t have a great head start, their white shirts make them easy targets, and neither one of them are in any shape to be running. Every dozen feet, they have to change course again to narrowly avoid being shot. The sound of Bill crashing along behind him suddenly stops, and Daniel cusses the other man out in his head as he turns back. Bill is leaning against a tree, panting hard. 

“Bill, you gotta keep moving!” Daniel demands, grabbing the other man’s arm and swinging him around as machine gun fire rips apart the three he was holding a millisecond ago. That motivates the engineer for a minute and they’re off again, moving rapidly. The next time, Bill just falls, clutching his side, not helping at all when Daniel tugs him upright. 

“I can't, I can't breathe!”

“Yes you can,” he growls it, trying to imbue it with his best commanding-officer-colonel-Jack-O’Neill voice. He’s not leaving this man behind now. They’re too close to freedom. “Come on!”

“I can't. Daniel, I can't.” Bill isn’t getting enough air into his lungs even to speak. Daniel can’t carry him. Plan C, then. 

“Okay, okay.” he shoves the engineer down behind a big tree, glancing back to make sure their pursuers didn’t see him do it. “Stay there. I'll draw them off!” His lungs ache, he’s still dizzy and nauseous, but he has Jack and Teal’c breathing down his neck about his fitness regularly, and his body obeys him when he starts running again. He can run until he passes out - he would swear he almost did the last time Teal’c was displeased with him - unless they shoot him first.

* * *

It takes them a couple of hours to hike out to the place where Daniel and Doctor Lee’s GPS locators have been unmoving since before Daniel missed his check-in. His guide is convinced there’s nothing out here, and Jack isn’t sure he’s wrong - there may be nothing  _ except  _ GPS locators, but he has no other leads and no real information on the ground without Burke. 

Burke, who seems to have had a change of heart. Jack watches him, trying to assess whether he’s being truthful. Despite his illogical and frankly crazy sound rambling, the man had come to find him to offer his help even though Jack had belittled him today as well as (in his mind), abandoning him all those years ago. And, well, the crazy isn’t exactly new. He might be less sane than he was when they were kids, but he was never quite all there. 

It had never prevented him from being a loyal teammate. 

“I'll take you where you need to go,” he insists.

“For old times' sake?” Jack watches his reaction closely and is surprised when the other man drops his gaze for a minute, only briefly glancing up as he responds. 

“You know, I took an emotional inventory, and I realized that I have some issues.”  _ That _ , Jack thinks uncharitably,  _ is an understatement _ . “Thought maybe we can put our petty differences aside on this one. You're gonna need me when this one goes down, buddy. Come on, give me a chance. I won't let you down.”

He’s gotten better at second chances. Needing them himself has taught him a thing or two. He makes the decision, and turns and sends Pedro away. He needed the guide when it was just him, but with Burke along the civilian would just be a liability. 

Suddenly cheerful again, all signs of sincerity and remorse wiped from his face, Burke starts up a ridiculous comedy routine as they start to hike. It has the potential to be irritating, but instead, Jack finds the familiarity settling over him like a second skin, along with something akin to faint fondness. It may have been twenty years, give or take, but the strange relationships formed between soldiers in a unit are a lasting force. Daniel could probably rattle off some facts and statistics about emotional attachments formed in high-stress situations, about PTSD, about God-knows-what, but Jack is just left to trust his gut and hope it hasn’t steered him wrong in this case. 

They hike along some path that seems to be indicated mostly in Burke’s scary brain (and man, is that not a place Jack ever wants to be), alternating between the CIA agent’s bizarre humor, thoughtful silences, and Burke dropping random bits of information he thinks might be relevant to the mission. It’s in the middle of one of those that something makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he signals for a stop. 

There’s a body lying in the undergrowth, not moving. Jack leans down to double-check his pulse, and when the young man turns his head and mumbles “I’ve been shot,”, honestly Jack and Burke almost shoot him again. After a second of recovery, they come back in close, and he tries to roll him over to check the wound, where he can see blood seeping up the man’s shirt. 

Man? He’s not much more than a boy, and he cries out as Jack tries to move him, so the colonel gives up, agreeing, “You have been shot.”

“Si.” The kid says agreeably, and Jack wonders if he’s going to have to deal with two mentally unstable companions. Though this one has the excuse of being injured. 

“Air rescue should be here in about an hour,” Burke says, which is the first helpful thing he’s said all day. 

“Well, I've been lying here for days. What's another hour?”

_ That’s the spirit, kid _ , Jack thinks and has to bite back a smile as he asks, “Who did this?”, shifting to get out of the way so Burke can cut the zip ties binding his hands. 

“Banditos, banditos,” he says and then mutters, “que mueran del dolor del culo.” 

Jack understands the sentiment, but he needs the kid to focus. “All right, all right. We're looking for two scientists.”

As luck would have it, the kid was the guide Daniel had hired. They reluctantly leave him since Burke promises medical help is on the way, and Jack finds himself reinvigorated for the hike. If they’d been on foot when they kidnapped the doctors and were still traveling on foot when the guide was shot, they have to be close. 

They hike on, and after a few minutes, Burke brings the topic back to himself. Jack tries to shut him down, to divert him, but he really seems determined to make Jack understand something that Jack thought he understood long ago. Now seems like a terrible time to dredge up the past, in his mind. Finally, the man just flat out demands, “You don't want to know the truth? I mean, come on, you really don't want to know?”

Jack stops, frustrated, and they face each other. He doesn’t have the emotional energy to deal with this while he’s worrying about Daniel, but Burke just isn’t going to let it go. 

“Man, it wasn't my fault.” There’s honest pain in the agent’s voice, and it makes Jack stop and listen. “I mean, I didn't choose, I just reacted. It stinks, the whole damn thing stinks. You want to know what really happened? Fine, I'll tell you. Woods was ghosting us. He sold out; he was, he was no good. He was sending out a rogue transmission; he was giving our position away. Woods realized that I was on to him, and he turned his weapon on me. And I just, I just reacted.”

That changes everything.  _ Damn it, I don’t have time to unpack this _ . They needed to keep moving. Still, the fact that he may have condemned his friend for killing someone else in friendly fire if that wasn’t what happened....he can already feel the nightmares this is going to produce. “Why didn't you come forward with this?

“Come on man, you remember how close we were. The wives and the beers and the barbecues. I couldn't do that to Cindy. It comes out Woods was a traitor, she doesn't see a penny of that pension, a month away from his retirement. Woods wasn't gonna retire. He was setting himself up as a mercenary for that warlord. He made his choice. He's gone, that's all that matters.”

Jack can’t say anything, and the other man walks away. 

_ Shit. _

He follows in silence for some time. Gradually the frosty feeling subsides, and he knows that they’re back on an even keel - or the closest the two of them can get, with that bombshell hanging over them - when Burke stops and offers him some gum silently. He’s always been a guy who gets hot, feels his feelings, and then gets over them. And he can probably sense that a big part of Jack believes him. It makes more sense than the original lie ever did. Jack’s considering saying something to that effect, just to get it out in the open between them, when gunfire rips apart the peaceful jungle around them. 

Without exchanging words, they start running towards it, Burke yielding to his nonverbal commands without any hesitation at all, as if they served together yesterday. The shooting is sporadic, and he has to pause to listen sometimes, but they’re catching up to it. A long burst sounds right on top of him, and he puts on another burst of speed. 

There are three men, all standing over Daniel, who is crouched at the base of a tree, cowering to protect his face. One of them lifts a machete into the air and snarls, “I'm going to skin you alive!” With only enough care to make sure there are no stray bullets to whizz past and hit Daniel, Jack kills them with no remorse. As soon as they’ve fallen, he darts forward and makes sure they’re going to stay down. 

“How many more are there?” he looks up from the bodies. His partner is open-mouthed, wide-eyed, and clutching a large rock in his hand, clearly ready to take on his pursuers with the last available weapon. Jack doesn’t doubt that that would have included his fingernails if that’s what it came to. But he doesn’t respond to Jack’s question.  _ C’mon, Daniel, stay with me. _ He moves over to his archaeologist, smacking his shoulder to get his attention. “Daniel!”

“That's it. You got 'em all.” He’s still brandishing his rock, blinking like he’s uncertain if Jack’s real. “What are you doing here?”

_ God, Danny _ . Jack just stares at him, hoping that doesn’t mean Daniel didn’t think he was coming. If that’s the case, their relationship maybe isn’t as much on the mend as Jack thought it was. Daniel looks at the rock as if he’s never seen it before, either, much less picked it up, and then tosses it to the side. “I’m here to get an update. Hammond says you missed a check-in,” he tries for humor, voice teasing, but he just gets the same wide-eyed stare, so he tries again. “Oh for cryin’ out loud, Danny, I’m here for you. As if there was ever any doubt.”

“Oh. I, um,” Daniel reaches out and pats his arm a few times. “Are you real? I was maybe hallucinating last night, you weren’t real.”

“Yeah, I’m real, kid,” he touches the side of Daniel’s face, just a moment because he can’t keep his hands totally to himself. “We’re gonna go home. Focus. Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, um,” the younger man licks his lips, grimacing. “They shot me,”

“That’s not ‘okay’, Daniel, how many times do we have to talk about this?” In contrast to his hissed complaint, he keeps his hands as gentle as possible as he moves Daniel until he can see where the bullet tore into his leg. No exit wound, which means it’s still in there. “Okay, I’m gonna wrap this up, okay? We got anything else to worry about?”

While he digs a cleanish bandana out of his pocket to triage the bullet wound, he listens to Daniel’s wandering and hazy chorus of complaints with some serious concerns. “Hit my head, a few times,” something that’s almost a giggle, which is totally out of place. “Gotta concussion. Super dehydrated, maybe heat stroke. Probably some burns, didn’t look. I think I sprained my ankle when I fell, but so sore all over, maybe I didn’t. Ow.” His recitation trails off into a little hiss of protest as Jack tightens his bandage. 

“You gonna be able to walk on this?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, and it’s the most coherent thing he’s said yet, but the least likely to be true. Jack starts to offer him a hand up, but ducks again when a bullet bites into the tree above them, just behind the loud report of a shotgun. The man wielding it cocks it again and starts towards them.

“Telchak's device re-animates dead tissue-” Daniel starts to say, but Jack doesn’t have time for an explanation about why the man walking towards them is riddled with bullet holes in the chest and still walking. He grabs Daniel’s arm and hauls him upright. 

“Yeah, whatever. Come on.” Maneuvering both of them to the far side of the tree, he props his archaeologist up against the wooden truck and leans out to shoot at the apparent zombie. He strikes true, but the bullets barely have any effect. Burke appears on the far side of the clearing. 

“Hey, get down!”

Jack ducks and the grenade launcher does the trick. The zombie-man seems to disintegrate. Burke kicks through the dust in confirmation as he wanders their direction, and Jack turns around to get Daniel back on his feet. He’d fallen down pretty much as soon as Jack let go, making his claim of being able to walk on his injured leg most likely a lie. He’s able to free one arm to support Daniel, now that Burke is here to help with the shooting, so he hobbles his very disoriented lover out to meet their backup.

“What's with the guy from Evil Dead?”

“Um…” Jack doesn’t have an answer, even if he knew what Burke was read in to and what he wasn’t. He glances over at Daniel, who just grimaces again.

“Classified?” Burke asks, giving him an easy out. 

“Yeah.”

“You guys are into some crazy crap, man!” his old friend dissolves into maniacal giggles, getting an alarmed look from Daniel, and Jack just sighs.

* * *

They pick Bill Lee up from his hiding place while they hobble back to the rebel camp. Jack wants Daniel off his leg as soon as possible, but he has to hold his breath and his patience until the scientists get the device turned off. After that, nothing could have stopped him from hustling Daniel into the waiting air rescue helicopter. The medic starts both of the scientists on fluids immediately and treats their scrapes, bruises, cuts, and burns while they wing their way across the sky towards the Honduran base. 

Stubborn as ever, Daniel puts up a brief but spirited fight against getting the bullet removed before they board the plane to go home, arguing that the rest of the team might need them. Jack lets him argue for about five minutes, watching him get less coherent and less stable minute by minute, listing side to side and catching himself only just before falling off the gurney. One of the times he is looking at Jack and nearly falling over, banging his elbow to catch himself, Jack meets a nurse’s eyes over his head and gives a short little nod, and she jabs him with a tiny syringe. It’s a statement to how out of it he already is that he doesn’t notice, just righting himself and batting them away again. “I’ll be fine! We need to get back to Sam and Teal’c. Jack, I’m fine.”

When he fails to catch himself entirely and Jack has to step in and grab him to prevent a faceplant, he’s had enough. “Daniel,” he says in a flat voice, “shut up and let the damn doctors do their jobs. You’re not going anywhere until you do.”

The no-nonsense voice works, or at least it gets a very tired and slightly drugged Daniel to snap his mouth closed and stare up at Jack, looking a little hurt at the tone. The staring match only continues for a moment before the archaeologist starts to feel heavy in Jack’s arms. “Did you...did you tranq me?” he manages to splutter. Jack gentles his grip and lays his partner down on the gurney, risking sweeping his hand affectionately through Danny’s hair and down the back of his head counting on the medical team being too busy getting their stuff ready to notice or care how he touches the apparent civilian lying bruised and beaten in their infirmary. 

“Yeah, kid, they did. You’re making everyone’s job real hard here.” He lifts Daniel’s feet up and then pats his leg. “They’re gonna get the bullet out and check you over, and then we’re out of here. When you wake up we’ll probably be most of the way home. Go to sleep, Daniel.” Jack doesn’t walk away, holding Daniel’s desperate gaze, until those blue eyes do close. That’s when he lets himself sag as they wheel Daniel into makeshift surgery, rubbing his face. He needs to report to Hammond again with their ETA home, but first, he needs to sit down a minute. Or twenty. Maybe he can catch a quick nap. As long as he’s here when Daniel wakes up, everything else can handle itself. 

* * *

Daniel is quiet in the passenger seat, facing the window. 

For a week, Jack’s been attributing his partner’s uncharacteristic reticence to simple exhaustion. They’d arrived back to the Mountain with just enough time to grab quick showers and for Fraiser to put them both through another pretty exhaustive medical exam before Sam, Teal’c, Bra’tac, and Jacob had returned from their mission to Tartarus. Daniel had insisted he was ‘fine’ (Jack asked the General if he could issue a memo to the entire base defining that word, but he’d been shot down), so the General had kept them around for a couple of hours to debrief. Only after that was he able to drag Daniel home and pour him into bed - despite being ‘fine’, Daniel had slept for nearly 18 hours, woken up to have a meal, and then slept for another 8 hours. 

Jack, with Janet’s full support, had bullied Daniel into staying home another day after that, but on day three he’d been back to work and cleared as totally healthy, aside from the obvious healing bullet wound and other small injuries. That was nearly three days ago now. So physically, there’s no continued reason for Daniel to be still so withdrawn; which leaves a mental or emotional one, where the colonel is further out of his depth. 

He puts the truck in park and shuts off the ignition - but by the time he’s turned to the passenger seat, his lover is out of the truck and sliding through the front door, dropping his bag beside the shoes he’s toed off in the entryway. Without saying anything, he disappears down the hall. Not willing to let this go on anymore without challenging the status quo, Jack stalks after him, following him into the bedroom, where he’s pulling sweats and a t-shirt out of a drawer. Jack closes the door behind himself; experience has taught him that sometimes Daniel’s a runner, and having that tiny advantage has come in handy in the past.

Jack settles down on the edge of the bed and crosses his arms, watching him move around and change, intentionally letting the air get heavy around them. Finally, the atmosphere breaks into Daniel’s fugue and he looks up, locking eyes with the man on the bed. He blinks once, twice; frown wrinkles appear between his eyebrows, and then he slowly straightens. He’s only half changed, one of Jack’s t-shirts already shrugged over his head but his pants dangling from his fingers. 

“Jack?”

“What’s wrong, Daniel?”

The man actually huffs at him, as if it’s a ridiculous question, but doesn’t quite meet his eyes when he mutters, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Daniel,” he returns, in a quiet and not particularly friendly drawl. If ‘nothing’ was wrong, he’d have his normal Daniel back. Not that Jack expects not to deal with a lot of nightmares and no small amount of PTSD in his partner from his experiences in Honduras, but these all-the-time low spirits is more than that.

“I’m fine,” Daniel asserts, turning away from Jack and stepping into the sweats and yanking them up. “What do you want for dinner?”

“How about we just agree to strike ‘fine’ from SG-1’s vocabulary entirely?” Jack suggests to the world at large. “I’ll let everyone else know tomorrow. Nobody’s using ‘fine’ when asked how they are, from this point onward. You’re not  _ fine _ , Daniel, so talk to me.”

Slowly, the younger man turns around, making a long moment of eye contact again before he says again, slower as if Jack’s a particularly stupid cadet, “I’m fine. What do you want for dinner?”

Jack narrows his eyes a little and taps his fingers on his arm as he considers this response, gauging Daniel’s words against his intent. It seems to him that Daniel is looking for a particular response from him, and he’s just not sure what it is. He decides to try one more time for the easy way. He lowers and softens his voice, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward a little. “Let me help you, Danny. We’re not leaving this room until you talk to me.”

There is no mirroring in Daniel’s body language when Jack softens, which is unusual. Jack catches him twitching towards the bed for a millisecond before he stiffens, visibly coming to a decision, and goes for full-on belligerence. “Make me,” he challenges, and then turns and walks towards the door. 

_ Fine _ . Jack sighs.  _ Challenge accepted. _

Colonel Jack O’Neill is a lifetime soldier, trained in special ops. Under his and Teal’c’s tutelage and years of the Stargate program, Daniel isn’t the graceful but undeveloped academic he used to be, but Jack still has the advantage. Maybe someday the age difference between them will give Daniel the upper hand, but that time hasn’t come either. He snags Daniel before he can reach the door, spinning him around and using momentum and a well-placed foot to knock his legs out from under him and drop him on his ass on the bed. He stays standing, ready to knock his ridiculous lover back onto the bed if he tries to get up, and scowls. “ _ Talk. _ ”

Daniel goes red, puffs up like he might try and get up to start the physical altercation Jack’s braced, stiff stance promises; he opens his mouth clearly intent on blasting Jack with hot words...and then he just deflates, dropping his gaze and shrinking into himself. “‘m sorry,” he whispers. 

Arching an eyebrow, feeling a little bit of whiplash, Jack doesn’t let himself soften yet. “For what?”

Arms creeping around himself, the archaeologist doesn’t look up. “It’s my fault. Bill got tortured, poor Rogelio got shot. All those men died. We almost lost the Telchak device.”

This should feel like progress, but honestly, the list baffles Jack. He’s pretty sure exactly zero of those things were Daniel’s fault. Frowning, he only manages to counter with a placating, “Daniel-” before the man’s head shoots up and he interrupts.

“It was my fault,” he insists. “I knew Bill and I should never have been in Honduras by ourselves. I know what South America is like. I knew it was a bad idea, which is why I didn’t call you either, so you couldn’t object. I just...I just really wanted it to feel normal. Like a dig and not a military operation. It was stupid and selfish.”

He always beats himself up more thoroughly than anyone else can. Jack should have recognized the guilt three days ago, but they’re out of practice. “Daniel,” he starts again, and this time when Daniel opens his mouth to object he gives a sharp shake of his head. “No, you had your turn. Hush.” Daniel shuts his mouth, though Jack’s word choice earns him a little bit of side-eye. Jack waits a minute to make sure he’s got Daniel’s full attention. 

“It might not have been your all-time best idea, but it wasn’t selfish. We all know what sacrifices you make for the program. Everyone is happy for you when you get to do the playing in the dirt thing. I do wish you would have called me. Yeah, I would have asked for you to wait so I could tag along, and leaving me a note instead was just plain mean. Clearly, we still have some work to do on the trust and communication fronts. But, the fact is the General had already approved you to go, so you were in the clear. Hammond is the one who dropped the ball there - I’m sure he was counting on the two of you with no prearranged plans, going to a remote place with no known ruins, would be inconspicuous enough to slide under the radar, and if it was anyone else’s luck we were playing with, it probably would have been.”

“You did all you could to protect the program and the Telchak device, and more than anyone could have expected. The guide being shot was his fault for running, and the fault of the men who shot him. The torture you and Bill had to endure was the rebels’ fault as well.” Jack pauses to harden his voice and point one finger at Daniel’s chest. “And those men who died were terrorists, Daniel, engaged in kidnapping and extortion. You’re not going to keep their deaths on your conscience.”

The man sitting on the bed still has his arms wrapped around his midsection, face averted, body language closed off. He doesn’t contradict Jack, but he doesn’t give up any of his tension either. When no response is forthcoming Jack prompts, “Daniel?”

All he gets in response is a tiny shake of the head, and he blows out a breath, knowing what his lover is pushing for. A part of him had hoped as months stretched by that maybe Daniel’s need for absolution in this way might have been burned out of him when he ascended and then descended again, but the rest of him had known it was only a matter of time. It’s just intrinsically a part of Daniel, and he has vowed to love the man in all his parts. Before he ascended, they’d mostly moved past the need to do this song and dance beforehand, but he supposes he should have expected something of the sort for the first go-round in their second lifetime. 

“Daniel,” he says, “do you want me to spank you?” A comical grimace of distaste flashes across the other man’s face and Jack knows it’s in response to his use of the word ‘want’. Rolling his eyes, he modifies his question. “Do you need me to spank you?” Immediately, some of the tension melts off of Daniel’s body. He hadn’t wanted to  _ ask _ , he’d just wanted Jack to  _ know _ , like he used to. Jack was just a little slow on the uptake this time around. But they’re back on familiar footing now, and the colonel just wants it over with so he can have his Daniel back.

Reaching out, he guides Daniel to his feet and they swap places again. Once he’s seated on the edge of the bed, Jack pulls the unresisting man down across his knees, his upper body supported on the bed and his legs dangling off the other side of Jack’s lap. He only gets a quiet grumble of objection when he tugs Daniel’s pants and underwear down to mid-thigh, resting his right hand briefly on the bare bottom exposed over his knees as he makes sure he has his left arm wrapped securely around Daniel to hold him in place, left hand gripping Daniel’s hip. 

“After we do this, you’re gonna let it go. No more guilt.” Without waiting for a response, because Daniel’s probably way too far into his head to give one, he lifts his hand and lets it fall back down, a crisp smack on the left side. There’s already a blooming pink mark as he moves onto the other side and lands a matching swat, settling into a comfortable rhythm. His pattern is intentionally unpredictable, moving all over Daniel’s bottom and focused on raising a uniform color all over. He cups his hand so that each swat is more sound than impact; if Daniel’s been holding onto this for a whole week, he’s probably not going to release his guilt if the spanking is too short, but Jack doesn’t think his lover did anything wrong, so he doesn’t want to dole out a serious punishment. 

A few minutes into this strategy, as the light blush starts to deepen into a rouge pink, Daniel is still quiet, but his body is betraying him. He’s starting to squirm in Jack’s grasp, his legs twitching almost involuntarily; he’s reached his left hand back around Jack’s waist and taken a desperate grip of Jack’s shirt. When he hears the first little gasp of indrawn breath, Jack pauses and strokes his hand once down his boy’s back. “Let it go, Spacemonkey,” he murmurs in encouragement, and then starts spanking again. 

His pattern stays erratic, falling on whatever part of Daniel’s butt that seems the palest at that moment, but he flattens his hand and increases his force a little, making each smack count a little more. Daniel only holds out for one or two circuits of loud swats before he opens his mouth, letting out a yelp or a whine each time Jack’s hand makes contact. Hard on the heels of the first yelps are sniffles, and Daniel’s butt is now looking distinctly red instead of pink. It’s warm under Jack’s palm, and as he listens to his partner’s little cries he thinks they are almost there. But if they don’t get all the way, Daniel won’t let himself feel absolved. Hardening his heart against the inevitable tears, Jack lifts his right leg to give himself better access to the most tender spots on the undercurve of the bottom and tops of the thighs, and tightens his grip on Daniel before bringing his hand down harder yet again, in sets of three. 

Three smacks to the very undercurve of Daniel’s left cheek, then three right where his butt meets his thigh, then three on the top of his thigh. Daniel gasps, cries out, and throws his free hand back; but it falls ineffectually over the top of his butt, not reaching to the tender area where Jack has focused his attention. He methodically places the same nine swats on the right side, hand unerringly finding its intended spot despite the way Daniel kicks desperately. He returns to the left side and starts again, and this time when he gets to swat four the man in his lap gives one last loud gasp, and by the time he’s landing the first of the second set of nine spanks on the right side, the archaeologist has dissolved into tears and gone limp over his knee. 

Jack quickly finishes his set and then starts rubbing Daniel’s back, hand warm against the skin where his shirt had ridden up around his chest where he was squirming around. He hums a little, waiting for the worst of the tears to abate before he starts up a soothing litany of endearments and reassurances. While Daniel is settling, he casts a critical look over his handiwork. Daniel’s butt is a uniform bright red, just a little deeper color on the lower half, but absolutely nothing that looks like it will bruise or even last overnight. He’s satisfied that he hasn’t lost his touch, though it’s certainly not on the list of skills he’s proudest of. 

When they’ve both had a second to catch their breath he slides backward, maneuvering both of them onto the bed so that he’s leaning up against the pillows at the head of the bed, Daniel sprawled across his chest, now silent tears soaking into Jack’s shirt. “Easy, Danny. Let it out, that’s it. Let it go. Everything’s okay.” Daniel only cries quietly for a minute, before he peters off into a boneless relaxed silence. 

Just when Jack is sure he’s fallen asleep, a wobbly “Ow,” floats up from where his face is still buried in Jack’s front. He can’t help but smile a little, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards, but he doesn’t say anything, just keeps on carding his hand through Daniel’s hair, fingertips massaging the scalp underneath. When Daniel lets out a huge sigh, he tugs gently on the hair entwined in his fingers until blue eyes lift to meet his, as Daniel shifts around to cross his arms on Jack’s chest so he can prop his chin on them and tilt his face up to Jack. 

“Feel better?”

“Yeah.” Daniel looks less wild, sated and loose-limbed instead of wound up like a jack in the box. When he voices an embarrassed apology this time, it’s with an air of actual closure, instead of frenzied guilt. “Sorry about the note, Jack. I do trust you, so it was stupid. I was caught up in the past.” 

“Thank you,” he accepts the apology because Daniel needs him to, but then brushes his hand over his lover’s damp cheek, wiping away some of the residual wetness. “Past me was an unforgivable jerk, Danny, so sometimes current me is going to pay for those mistakes. But I am  _ always _ on your side. So maybe current Daniel can try to remind past Daniel that I learned some hard lessons the last time, before you let him take the steering wheel next time.”

He knows he took the imagery a touch too far when Daniel’s brow wrinkles in politely confused disbelief, but after Daniel just looks at him silently for a moment, he sighs and collapses back down across Jack. “Yeah,” he agrees, turning his head to rest over Jack’s heart, listening to his heartbeat. His breathing starts to slow, matching Jack’s, and his eyes start to droop. When the colonel reaches around and down to pull a blanket over the two of them, he does it carefully to avoid dislodging Daniel at all. 

He was thawing steaks, but maybe they’ll just order takeout. Later. Whenever Daniel wakes up. 

  
  
  
  



	31. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the quiet moments can be just as important as the hectic ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S7E14. This is just fluff, and I'm not even sorry.
> 
> Updates may be slow - we start school this coming week so I've got that to sort back out as my students return to campus, and I'm working on two stories for the Stargate Winter Fic Exchange. But I have not abandoned this fic!

Even asleep, he can see the strain as it sits on Daniel. The Langaran delegation has all been escorted to guest rooms to rest, and Daniel had been sent off to rest by the General as well. Since their archaeologist is passed out on his own desk, drooling on a collection of papers about the history of the Kelownans and a thick treatise about ‘modern diplomacy’, he’d be willing to hazard a guess that that particular order had been willfully ignored by his partner, at least until his own body had betrayed him. . Heaving a sigh, Jack settles down into the chair across the desk from Daniel and studies the younger man over steepled fingers.

Daniel is worried sick about the Langaran people; an entire  _ planet  _ full of people. They already know they can’t save all of them in an evacuation, so Daniel is feeling incredibly guilty about all of the ones they won’t save. He’ll carry that burden on his shoulders, the weight of all the lives they don’t save, and the councilors can’t even agree that they  _ need _ to evacuate.

Jack feels a little guilty about leaving Daniel alone with the council since Teal’c has gone to help Sam and Jonas with the drill and the General is only able to float in and out as he takes care of other business, but he simply couldn’t stand for one more minute to watch Danny tear himself up over people so petty. At this point, everyone except the man passed out on his desktop has pretty much resigned themselves to the fact that they’re relying on Carter and Jonas to stop the reaction, but Sam’s reports haven’t exactly been glowing with optimism. The fact that Jonas’ crush is an undercover Goa’uld hasn’t been a source of reassurance either. 

Paper crunches as Daniel goes tense all over, his face twisting up into a pained expression. He doesn’t cry out, but Jack is familiar with that peculiar habit. Other people have bad dreams and they shout, or cry, or whimper. Somewhere along the line, his partner taught himself how to stay silent through even the most terrible nightmares. It ties back to the foster care homes he’d grown up in - some people used self-sufficiency as a cloak or a bolster against bad days; Daniel Jackson wielded it like a weapon. If your nightmares woke someone else up, you had to let them  _ help you _ . Jack leans forward, waiting; he’s used to this razor’s edge. If he wakes his lover up and it was just a bad dream, Daniel gets cranky. But if he doesn’t wake him up and it’s a real night terror or particularly bad flashback, he has to deal with watching his best friend wander around with a lost and haunted look in his eyes for hours, sometimes for days. 

Just as he’s about to intervene, the other man’s face smooths back out, the only remaining sign of unrest a faint shiver that works its way down Daniel’s spine. He settles back down into his chair, content to continues to oversee over his linguist’s rest. Daniel would sleep better in his quarters (undoubtedly the General’s intention), but if he tries to move him now, the man will go back to work instead. Daniel has admitted he has fewer bad dreams when Jack is there, so this will have to be sufficient. 

He’s considering whether he can move the papers Daniel’s using as a pillow without waking him and comparing the likelihood of success to the risk of being verbally eviscerated for putting his feet up on the topmost set to get move comfortable when his vigil is interrupted by the near-silent buzz of his pager in his pocket. Fishing it out, he glances at the readout and accepts regretfully that he isn’t going to be able to disappear for several hours today to monitor his civilian’s sleep. The tasks that should be his as second-in-command of the base that George lets him neglect to lead SG-1 can’t be ignored forever. He pauses in the doorway and looks back, in time to catch another shiver run across Daniel’s body. Even from across the room, he can see standing goosebumps on his partner’s bare arms. Jack pads around the desk and takes the long sleeve shirt off of the back of Daniel’s chair and drapes it over his shoulders, and then slips out to go back to work.

* * *

Hours later, he finishes his meeting with the other team leaders and decides to wander back up to check on the negotiations. He’s not sure where they’re at right this minute, but conveniently when the elevator doors open on level 28, Daniel is walking towards him, head down. His split second of being unaware of Jack allows the colonel to get a read on him - with his head down, his shoulders a little hunched, Jack already knows there isn’t any good news.

Then Daniel lifts his head and their eyes meet; and the archaeologist immediately changes course to walk with Jack, giving him a little nod of greeting. “Daniel,” he offers in return, “how's the whole diplomacy thing working out for you?”

“It's not,” Daniel groans. “The latest argument’s about the selection process. The Kelownans want a lottery. The Tiranians want to assign positions and the Andaris wanna set up a committee to discuss the problem.”

“What?” Jack uses the single world partially to express how appalled he is at the Langaran’s continued infighting, and partially to redirect Daniel’s litany of complaints. A few words go a long way in keeping their linguist’s narratives moving in a productive direction. 

“I keep trying to remind them that they're facing total annihilation, but they can't seem to face their own mistrust.” By the time Daniel’s reached the end of his statement, he’s nearly vibrating with tension, hands on his hips, and voice bleeding exasperation. Jack has nothing left to give to the Langarans in the way of patience; he knows they’ve all been giving Daniel a little bit of the kid-glove treatment since South America but damn it, he doesn’t deserve to work so hard and have his efforts thrown back in his face again and again. 

Before Daniel can say anything else, Jack reaches out and grabs his shoulders, forcing him to turn around and look Jack in the face. The discouraged frown he finds on Daniel just reinforces the decision he’d already come to. It’s time for someone else to step in, and there’s only one person who can tell Daniel to stop working on this, and Jack will need him in his court before he tries. “I think I can help you out on this,” he announces and then releases Daniel with a pat on the shoulder. 

In the split second before he turns away, he can see the relief on Daniel’s face. He tucks that away for later because he’s pretty sure this is one of those situations where his partner is not going to express any gratitude for Jack’s interference. In fact, he might end up sleeping on the couch. Behind him, he hears the minute Daniel’s relief turn to suspicion when the linguist’s alarmed voice echoes up the hall behind him, asking, “What do you mean?”. Jack keeps walking, even when the protest, “Jack!” follows loudly on the question’s heels.

* * *

“What, so now you wanna go to war?” Jack can hear Daniel’s voice rising as he climbs the stairs close behind the General. He’s honestly still impressed, even after all these years, that it took this long for Daniel to get really, truly fed up; but the tone of his voice indicates Daniel’s at the breaking point. “My friends are trying to save your world and you wanna destroy it?”

“Oh, save your breath, Daniel.” He announces, loudly more for the benefit of the Langaran diplomats. It’s all he can do not to give them a huge shit-eating grin; he’s feeling pretty smug for how little time it took to bring the General around to his way of thinking. Daniel turns to look at them, his face a study in defeat and frustration. To the three people who put that look on his partner’s face today he says, “You folks are done.”

Three blank faces gaze back at him. Finally, the woman with the truly awful orange and brown outfit says, “I don't understand.”

“Well,” Jack shrugs a little, “you see, we actually like the Madronans.” He glances at the General for show, and his commander nods. Daniel is looking back and forth, a question in his brought eyes that Jack doesn’t have time to answer. Thankfully, whatever the personal fall out later, Jack is pretty sure Daniel won’t argue on the behalf of the council in front of the General. “They're nice people. And we've decided, there's no way we'd subject them to the likes of you. Deal's off. You're toast.”

“General?” Ambassador Tarthus looks like her eyes might pop out of her head if they get any bigger. Jack spares a second to hope that Jonas doesn’t catch too much flack from this lady for this, but the kid had decided to go back to his godforsaken planet knowing his superiors were like this. He’d also been told by Jack, Daniel, and the General himself that while he couldn’t have his spot on SG-1 back while Daniel was alive and able to fulfill it, they would always make room for him somewhere in the program if he wanted to return. 

“Colonel O'Neill's right.” Hammond drawls, tone leaving no invitation for them to argue. “You can stay until we hear back from Jonas and Major Carter.”

They look at each other, clearly taken aback and speechless, and then look at Daniel. Jack’s smugness reaches an all-new low when Daniel stays quiet, not even sparing a look to ask Jack and the General to reconsider. Some day, the people and aliens of other planets will realize that Daniel might be the most likely to help them, but that doesn’t mean they can walk all over him. Daniel might allow it, but his team won’t. He smiles at the council, and it isn’t nice. “That's what you get for dickin' around.”

* * *

Later, much later, he’s just putting dinner into the oven when the front door opens and closes. He hasn’t seen Daniel since they broke the news to the Langarans that they weren’t going to evacuate them regardless of whether Jonas and Sam succeeded, so he hasn’t had a chance to judge how much he was in the dog house with his lover. It’s a good sign that Daniel is here at least, though he could just be here to pick a fight. 

He turns around, bracing on bent knees and the balls of his feet for impact as he can hear and see Daniel moving quickly across the kitchen. He has a moment of surprise - he hadn’t thought Daniel would be  _ that mad _ enough to pick a physical fight! - before he has his arms full of archaeologist. 

Daniel has to do all the work for a minute while Jack’s brain shorts out, and he realizes that instead of being punched, he’s being kissed. Rather aggressively. When his brain does catch up, Jack dives in to kiss back, intending to meet Daniel’s intensity; instead, his partner immediately softens, going pliable in his arms, and he has to catch him, even as he leans in again, making it a warm, soft kiss to match the way Daniel has melted.

They have to come up for air after a minute, and he scrutinizes Danny’s upturned face. Nope, his partner isn’t angry. Intense, more than a little aroused right now if his blown pupils are anything to go by, but not angry. This is new. In their usual routine, this would be where Daniel was dismembering him for being ‘unreasonable overprotective’. “Hi,” he murmurs after a minute. 

“Hey,” Daniel breathes, and gives him a little half-smile. One of the sweet ones. Dangerous, since it tends to melt Jack, and Jack is the one holding them both up.

“Not that I am complaining,” he begins, “but this is not exactly what I was expecting.”

“Yeah,” Danny blushes just a little, averting his gaze. “I think I should be mad...” he trails off.

“But?” Jack prompts, readjusting his grip to make sure that his partner isn’t going to slip, as Daniel seems to lean even more weight into Jack’s hold. 

“But,” Danny shrugs, crossing his arms on Jack’s chest so he can prop his chin upon them, “I know you were looking out for me. I know I haven’t always acknowledged that in the past, but I do notice.” He looks up, waits for Jack to meet his eyes, and says with the utmost solemnity. “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you, too, Spacemonkey,” Jack agrees fondly, and glances at the timer on the oven to make sure they have time before he dives in for another kiss; because he knows it’s probably going somewhere else. Somewhere way better than he thought his night was going. 

Not that he’s complaining.


	32. Snippet: Chimera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daniel worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S7E15, Chimera. Mostly still fluff but at least it's an update? Heavy stuff happens for the rest of Season 7, so consider this the calm before the storm I guess? Sorry for the long wait, I had other projects to juggle; this should be my main focus again for the immediate future. :)

There’d been a false alarm. Or, rather, Jack is still choosing to assume it had been a false alarm; just some base gossip that had gotten a little closer to the truth than usual. Eminently familiar with the tone and subjects of military chatter and scandal, Jack knew it was nothing and wasn’t concerned. Daniel, more sensitive to those sorts of things after his professional rejection and other experiences, had been upset. They’d fought over it, and he supposes he’d lost since Daniel had retreated to his own home and not yet returned. 

Unfortunately, not wanting to  _ admit _ he’d lost the argument meant Jack was sleeping alone, because outside of work, Daniel isn’t really speaking to him. Something about ‘not until you decide to take this seriously’. It’s childish of both of them, Jack knows this, but right now he’s still determined not to be the one who breaks first, so he’s keeping his distance. 

Of course, that doesn’t mean he isn’t still aware of Daniel. Like, all the time. He knows his partner isn’t sleeping well. Though to be honest, Daniel rarely sleeps  _ well _ , so really, it takes about a week for Jack to decide he’s sleeping considerably  _ less well _ . Several times he comes in on the tail end of conversations Daniel is having with Teal’c, or Sam, but the other man always seems to clam up before he reaches them, and Jack isn’t concerned enough to push the issue directly with the archaeologist and be the first one to break the silence. When questioned, as casually as he can manage, all Teal’c and Sam will say is that Daniel’s having bad dreams. 

Which is nothing new. 

But altogether, it means Jack doesn’t get the full story until they’re sitting in a briefing with the General, and if Daniel looked any less exhausted, he might be seriously mad about being left out of the loop this long. It doesn’t matter that they’re having a quarrel - he can’t believe Daniel didn’t tell him the minute they suspected he was being  _ attacked in his sleep _ . Or Sam, or Teal’c, for that matter!

“Kinky!” he interjects snarkily, just to try and get a rise out of Daniel, who had chosen to sit next to Sam instead of his usual spot next to Jack. They all ignore him, continuing to discuss the issue at hand. Mind probes, Osiris, Goa’ulds with access to Asgard technology...yada yada, but nothing that seems like a plan to solve the problem. He tries to wait patiently, but when he just can’t anymore, he asks directly, “So…what do we do?”

“The Goa'uld are scavengers of alien technology,” Teal’c points out. “They would most likely interface any Asgard system with their own command device.”

“We're hoping the jamming device we've been working on, could prevent Osiris from using the beam technology to escape Daniel's room,” Sam suggest, and Jack is glad at least some of her research that is keeping her here on base for countless hours of overtime while she avoids getting serious with her new boyfriend will get put to good use. 

“You want to set up a trap,” the General says, as if just for clarification, but Jack can hear the caution in Hammond’s tone, the same caution currently setting off his own alarm bells. They’re waiting for the other shoe to drop; Daniel and Sam are being too cagey for it to be that simple. 

“Yes,” Daniel agrees, leaning forward, “but we don't want to spring it until after she's helped me remember the location of the Lost City.”

The other shoe - there it is. Instead of just setting up a simple operation, spring the trap, get the Goa’uld out of Daniel’s life and perhaps even save the civilian in the process, Daniel wants  _ more _ . “What?” Jack protests, looking briefly at Hammond’s considering expression before back at Daniel. Maybe the sleep deprivation is taking it’s toll. 

“Look, no one wants to save Sarah more than I do, but I mean, I could know.” Daniel finally looks at him, with an earnest pleading expression that asks Jack to push aside the entire last week of cold shoulder and back him up. He doesn’t even bother looking at the General at this point - smart man, already knows it’s Jack he’ll have to convince. “It could be there, somewhere in my subconscious. We have to let her think that she's still operating without our knowledge. At least until I have the chance to try to finish this.”

“And how are  _ we _ supposed to know when  _ you know _ if it's all happening in your head while you're  _ sleeping _ ?” Jack stares right back at him, not quite believing he’s willing to let Osiris continue to play around in his head just for the chance to find this Lost City. Sam clearly hasn’t considered this aspect because after a minute she looks at their linguist, silent, leaving Daniel to answer.

“I don't know?” Daniel says hesitantly, still watching Jack, who glares at him.  _ Daniel, you’re going to be the death of me _ . Thankfully, Hammond interrupts anything else he might have said and regretted. 

“You'd better figure it out. We can't risk letting Osiris escape with that kind of information.”

* * *

The only serious injury is Sam’s boyfriend; he’s seen enough that after a quick background check and investigation of his personal history, Hammond clears him to know at least the bare bones of what happens under the Mountain. Jack likes his instincts, to have kept digging at the inconsistencies in Sam’s story, even if he doesn’t quite approve of what was essentially stalking. He makes a mental note to take the man to lunch, shake him down a little, but his gut feeling says the guy’s fine. And it would be good to have someone else watching Sam’s back off-base - as this new adventure has yet again shown them, they are vulnerable when they leave the Mountain and try to conduct their civilian lives. 

Daniel’s friend is de-Goa’ulded, and handling it fairly well, all things considered. Perhaps better than Daniel, who isn’t taking the rescue of his friend with as much joy as one might expect. He’s currently hunched over his desk, head in his hands, staring at pages and pages of his own notes. Jack crosses the room and perches on the edge of the table, moving a book and some papers rather than sitting on them and risking making this a fight. Or, more of a fight. The one they have had going all week seems really stupid, now. Without speaking, he reaches out and places a hand on Daniel’s neck, firmly massaging at the tension at the base of his skull. They sit like that, silently, for a few moments before Daniel subtly leans into Jack’s touch, which in turn allows Jack to relax, knowing they’re going to be okay. 

“I really thought maybe I could remember the location of the Lost City.” Daniel’s voice, when it finally does float up to him, is forlorn. As always, it doesn’t occur to him to celebrate all of the things that did go right today - just to mourn the one thing that didn’t. 

“You’ll find it,” Jack responds quietly. “Not today. Maybe not this week, or this year. But you’ll find it.”

“I know it’s out there. What if it has the answers to defeating Anubis?”

“What if it doesn’t?” Jack counters pragmatically. “Sam’s gadget is working pretty well, if we can get it amplified we’ll be set to deal with Anubis. Anything you find or don’t find in the Lost City is just icing on the cake.”

“My head hurts.” 

“I’m not surprised. You look like crap, kid. The human body needs sleep, not just sugar and caffeine.”

“I’m too tired to sleep.”

Jack actually laughs out loud. “No, you’re not,” he disagrees. “You’re just thinking too hard.” 

“I can’t go back there,” Daniel mutters, and after a moment of consideration adds, “I might sell the house.” 

“Don’t make any rash decisions before you’ve slept at least three full nights. You like that house.” It’s his first residence that wasn’t an apartment - and while he doesn’t spend a lot of time there when they’re not fighting, he knows he does like it more than a little. Jack stands up, swiveling Daniel around and pulling him to his feet. “And you don’t have to go back there right away. Let’s go home, Danny.”

Blue eyes study him, hesitating, but the longing is clear. It’s not Daniel’s heart that doesn’t want to go home to Jack’s. The tension that seeps out of hin when he gives in is enormous, his whole body softening. “Yeah,” he murmurs, and gathers up his stuff. He doesn’t speak again until they’re in the elevator, headed towards the surface. “Sorry, Jack. I just...I’m worried about you, you know. Nobody can do anything to me; the most that would happen is I’d end up not being assigned actively to an SG team. But you…” he trails off and shrugs.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me either,” Jack vows, and he means it. 


	33. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they lose someone, but at least it's not Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag to S7E17 & S7E18. It wanted to get really depressing and I didn't want it to so this is what we got. :/ I dunno. But, onwards we go.

He’s never wanted to be at Jack’s bedside as much as he does right now, and there’s never been a worse time to need it. Bregman and his camera crew are still haunting the halls trying to get gossip and secrets, and if Daniel goes to his lover, he knows he won’t keep it together, and the last thing they need is for that vulture to get something incriminating on video, especially with the IOA lurking as well. 

The words on the screen in front of him are usually blurred. He’d walked out on Woolsey’s interrogation, despite the threat of being thrown in jail. There was a chance the IOA could do it, despite his status as a civilian, but with Jack still out after his surgery (he’d let himself go in for five minutes, a socially acceptable amount of time for an unconscious man who was merely a teammate), he found he simply didn’t care. Whoever sent Woolsey within hours of their return from P3X-666, they were looking for blood, and the leading questions indicated they wanted either Jack or the General, and Daniel wasn’t going to give them anything to use. 

When he’d stormed out, Hammond had stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder and asked him to at least finish his official report to attempt to pacify the circling sharks. He had to know that they were sighted on him, but he was still looking out for everyone else. Daniel can at least finish his report. Trying to put the mission into words without letting any of it playback in his head, he starts to hash out words on the keyboard. It’s working, until Bregman blunders in and starts talking, ignoring Daniel’s clear signals for him to leave; and then he points at the camcorder.

Daniel freezes. He feels lightheaded and short of breath. He knows what’s on the camcorder, though he hasn’t bothered to download any of it. Wells. Jack.  _ Janet _ .

He lurches across the room and snatches the camcorder up before Bregman can reach for it, slamming it down on his desk behind him and hoping rather viciously that it breaks. “I said now's not a good time. What part about that didn't you understand?”

“You got something on tape, didn't you?” The man sounds indecently eager, and Daniel’s tenuous hold on his temper breaks. 

“Get out,” he snarls, walking towards the man, trying to channel Teal’c. “Get out!”

“Okay,” he holds up his hands, defensively, and backs away from Daniel. “I'm going. All right.”

Turning away, Daniel moves back over to his desk. He picks up the camcorder, aware his hands are shaking, and tries to decide what to do with it. Download it? Erase it? Wells isn’t out of the woods yet, and he doesn’t want to lose the man’s message to his wife but maybe he can erase the video and save the audio...it’s more likely to get declassified anyway. 

“You know I, uh…I once did a piece on this war photographer. His name was Martin Krystovski.” Not quite able to believe the man isn’t gone, Daniel rolls his eyes and doesn’t turn around. “For about six months, he was with a unit in Vietnam, and…the day before he was scheduled to leave, the day before. He's out with a unit, and it was just a routine patrol. Or so they thought. But suddenly, the lieutenant pulled him down…and Krystovski…he hadn't intended to take a picture at that moment, but his hands were on the camera, and he hit the ground so hard that it just went off. And the picture captured…the lieutenant getting shot in the head. And Krystovski said to me—he said: ‘That bullet would have hit me—should've hit me.’ And he never showed that picture to anyone. Not for twenty-five years. But twenty-five years later, he got up one morning, and he looked at that picture. And he saw something that wasn't horrific. And he decided to tell the story because he realized that he hadn't accidentally taken a picture of a man dying. It was of a man saving his life. The picture I'm making, that I'm trying to make, is about what you people do every single day-”

Something about the story rings true. Whatever the motivations of slimy Kinsey and the IOA, Bregman at least is passionate about the truth and storytelling - things that a younger Daniel would have been whole-heartedly behind far more than he would have stood with the military. Present-day Daniel is less naive, understands the motivations and the reasoning of the servicemen and servicewomen he works alongside more often than not, but that doesn’t mean that younger Daniel was completely wrong either. He grudgingly turns around and studies the man’s earnest face as he keeps talking. 

“-under extreme circumstances that no one can even imagine. And I don't know what happened out there. I'm sorry about what happened, whatever it was. And if you did tape something of it, that's not gonna change what happened. What will change is how you feel about it.”

And he walks away. Daniel turns to download the footage, and though he still doesn’t think Bregman should have it, he doesn’t destroy it. 

* * *

“I’ve been ordered to turn over the tape.”

He should have just destroyed it. Jack would say he had fallen for the man’s sob story hook, line, and sinker. Daniel doesn’t turn around right away, contemplating the futility of saying ‘what tape?’. Only his vast affection for the General keeps his mouth shut on that or anything else caustic and angry.    
  
“Look,” Hammond says gently, treating Daniel patiently and kindly as he always has. “I'm not happy about it either. I could fight it. The tape could get lost or accidentally erased, these things happen, but I'm not going to do that. You know, I had that little weasel of a man thrown out of here, but in light of the NID's latest investigation, I'm starting to think maybe there should be a record of what goes on here beyond the classified reports.”

Slowly, Daniel turns to face him, taking a good look at the man’s face. What he sees is that Hammond really doesn’t want to give Daniel an order he might not obey (he’s always been careful to avoid that, unlike Jack) but that the tape is going to Bregman one way or another, no matter how the General feels about it. “And you trust Bregman to portray that?” Daniel asks, feeling more than a little bitter that he’d bought the man’s story and then the snake had turned around and gone behind his back to get what he wanted anyway.

“At the moment,” George says regretfully, “I have no other choice.”

* * *

He delivers the tape and, confident that the crew will be rushing off to view it immediately like the leeches they are, hurries to the infirmary. Jack, in respect to his rank and the fact that he was unconscious, has been sequestered in a private ward and Daniel slips inside, closing the door behind himself and leaning on it with a sigh. When he looks up, Jack is watching him.

Jack is awake. 

“Hi,” he breathes, crossing quickly to the side of the bed. “They weren’t sure how long you’d be out. I wanted to...but Bregman and his cameras are still all over the place.”

“Just woke up,” the colonel replies, voice gravelly, “and you’re here. Good timing.”

“Oh,” the true meaning of ‘just woke up’ hits Daniel hard and he sways, swallowing hard. “Jack…”

“Woah, hey.” Jack comes alert quickly, grabs his hand, the only part of him he can probably reach the way he winces at even that movement, and tugs. “Sit down. You’re pale. Did you skip getting checked out?”

“No. I’m fine,” he opens and closes his mouth several more times, but doesn’t have the right words. 

“You don’t look fine.” Jack keeps insistently putting pressure on his hand and Daniel lets himself be tugged down onto the side of the bed, feeling cold all over. “I’m alright, Danny.”

“Yeah, you’re okay,” Daniel lifts Jack’s hand and folds it between both of his own. “It’s...oh, god,” his throat is getting tight but Jack’s frowning now and he pushes through. “I-it’s Janet. We lost Janet.”

“What?!” Jack pulls his hand out of Daniel’s to try and get leverage, struggling to push himself upright against the pillows and the bandages. “Which team is going after her? Did Carter and Teal’c go?”

“No, Jack, wait!” Daniel puts both hands as gently as he can on his partner’s shoulders, helping him up into a sitting position but not letting him up off the bed. He can feel the hot tears in his eyes, struggling to keep them back as he says, “She’s gone. S-she took a staff blast, high, and...she w-was dead before we even got back to the Gate. I couldn’t save her.”

“You did everything you could,” Jack responds fiercely, firmly, his voice sounding jagged. “I’m sure, whatever you could. Not your fault,” his warm hands come up to either side of Daniel’s face, pulling his forehead down to meet Jack’s, thumbs brushing somewhat ineffectively against the tears gliding down Daniel’s cheeks. “Not your fault.”

“I w-was getting out the s-stupid camera,” Daniel confesses. “To record a message f-for Wells’ wife. H-he was hurt pretty bad, Janet wasn’t sure h-he was going to make it, t-that he was stable enough to move. If I’d just b-been watching around us instead…”

“Simon Wells, whose wife is about to have a baby?”

“Yes,” Daniel agrees, startled though he knows at this point he shouldn’t be that Jack knows way more about his men than he ever lets on. 

“Frasier probably gave you the go-ahead on that, or she didn’t object. Am I right?” Daniel nods slightly, limiting his movement since his head is still resting against Jack’s. “And there were supposed to be two other airmen with you, watching out for both of you. Not your fault, kid. Come here,” Jack slides his hands down, leaving a trail of warmth against Daniel’s cold arms, starting to wrap his arms around him. Daniel takes a shaky breath, moving to sink into Jack’s offered embrace, but voices just outside give him a split second of warning before the door opens, and he leaps up off the side of the bed and away from his partner as a nurse walks in.    
  
“Colonel, you’re awake!” the woman says brightly, with a smile, and Daniel steps further away even as he rubs at the wetness on his cheeks, averting his face from her. 

“Daniel, hang on-” Jack ignores the woman and reaches out a hand towards him but Daniel is already out of his reach and shakes his head, pasting a smile on his face, reminded by the nurse’s sudden entrance that the base is an even less safe place right now than usual. 

“I have a meeting,” he lies, “I’ll see you later, Jack.” Turning, he slips back out the door the way he came, past another nurse and a doctor, and makes his escape before Jack can try to evade the medical staff.

* * *

After he gives Bregman back the tape, the man and his crew stick around until after the memorial. That means Daniel still feels like he’s walking on eggshells, avoiding the camera crew himself, and Jack isn’t as recovered as he was pretending to be, so he gets pinned back down in an infirmary bed himself. The doctor trying to take Janet’s place ‘refuses to let the Colonel die on his watch’, and won’t clear Jack to leave the base or go back on duty. Daniel doesn’t want to go home to his own empty house, so he sleeps on base as well, on his office couch as often as a real bed.

It’s a full seven days, which pass mostly in a self-inflicted haze of caffeine and sleep deprivation before the camera crew gets the final interview they want with Jack and then packs up and leaves the base. Jack finds him in his office, reading the same page of half-translated Goa’uld over and over again because, by the time he reaches the bottom of the page, he’s forgotten the beginning. Jack appears without him noticing in front of his desk and leans forward over the papers. He jerks, startled, and blinks up at his lover.

“Oh. Jack.” Daniel flushes just a little, feeling the warmth up the back of his neck and ears, because he’s been avoiding Jack. He still wants his comfort too much to try to be casual around all the eyes and ears of the mountain. Plus, who knows how long Jack has been standing there watching him?

“Daniel,” Jack is studying him and misses nothing - not the dark circles under his eyes, not all the extra empty coffee cups, not the barely touched plate of dinner a concerned Sam had brought by hours ago. “How long has it been since you slept?”

He shrugs. He was lying down about eight hours ago, but with all of the nightmares, he can’t say how much actual sleep he has been getting. Jack looks unimpressed, scowl written across his face, but as Daniel watches with interest the colonel takes a deep breath and then his face softens.

“Bregman’s gone. Camera crews are gone. Let’s go get some sleep.”

Daniel considers this, mind feeling sluggish, but shakes his head. He feels like he should say no - something is holding him back, but it takes him a minute to put it into words. “Sleeping together on base is still careless.”

“I don’t care, right now,” Jack replies cheerfully, holding out a hand imperiously. Which is...incredibly tempting, but the small part of his brain still functioning on full insists they shouldn’t, so he just frowns bemusedly up at Jack, who sighs again. “New doc still wants me under supervision, he keeps saying. So...supervise me.” he clicks his fingers and holds his hand out again. 

He should hate that. He always makes a fuss when Jack gets Airforce officer-y in matters pertaining to their personal life. Maybe it’s the exhaustion speaking but...he doesn’t hate it. 

With Jack, he might actually sleep with no nightmares. Without Jack, he’ll just read this parchment another dozen times and then pass out and not get any rest. 

Daniel stands up and takes his hand. 


End file.
